


One step good, two steps wicked

by RobberGirl



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl no Ugoku Shiro | Howl's Moving Castle, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Book Universe, Comedy, F/M, Gen, Invisibility, Magic, Retelling, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberGirl/pseuds/RobberGirl
Summary: What if instead of turning into an old lady, Sophie became Invisible? What if Sophie had some magic of her own? What if, instead of a housekeeper, Howl had to contend with Calcifer's student? AU / Book and Movie universe. A retelling.
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	1. In which Sophie has an idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie learns about the Horrible Wizard Howl

Sophie knew what being the eldest daughter meant. One day, she would go out to seek her fortune, fail miserably, and that would pave the way for her two younger sisters to succeed. For Lettie, the younger, maybe that meant she would find a kind merchant husband or some treasure and settle down for a nice life. For Martha, the youngest, maybe it would mean she would marry a king or kill a dragon. 

It did not mean that she should be barely suppressing her magical tendencies while customers were milling around the hat shop.

Sophie had been in the stockroom, sewing the cloth into patterns when the pedal jammed, and the thread snagged in the spring. She thought, ‘Work you damn machine.’ And that’s all it took nowadays. The sewing machine revved to life chomping at the cloth like an animal and ruining several yards of wool. It bounced on the work table in its mania sending a thunderbolt shaped crack through the wood.

“Stop! Stop!” yelled Sophie, forcing the thing to be still with her hands. With an abrupt _‘zggg’_ it thunked down and was still.

“Sophie?” Fannie cried, running to the threshold. “What was that awful noise? Are you alright?”  
Fannie was Sophie’s stepmother who occasionally visited the shop to manage overhead issues like finances and contracts and advertisements. Slowly those responsibilities were trickling down to Sophie and soon she would have complete control of the shop. It was her inheritance, even though Fannie insisted on doing her best to make sure it didn’t happen.

“What’s a young girl like you managing a dreary old hat shop like this? You’re barely 19 and you want to spend your life servicing a bunch of old bats looking for veils for the next funeral? Don’t you want to see the world, Sophie? Don’t you want to do something fantastic?”

Fannie was an only child and clearly didn’t understand the sororal order. There would be no fantasy in Sophie’s life, nor glory, nor fame, nor adventure. It simply would not happen. Sophie always told her as much, but Fannie failed to listen. That was a common thread throughout Sophie’s life. She was often ignored. But she never held it against Fannie. Despite being a stepmother, she was hardly wicked. Just a little annoying and whimsical at times. 

Sophie shielded the table and the upended sewing machine. “It’s nothing,” she gasped. “I tipped over the machine by accident.”

Fannie raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “I’m going to send the girls home for the day. I’m leaving too. Will you be alright closing up by yourself?”

Sophie nodded and flashed a wide smile until Fannie left, then she let her head rest on the cold steel of the sewing machine. 

It was getting worse. She had not exhibited any magical talent throughout her childhood which is where such things usually manifested themselves. As she hit puberty she noticed that her pockets or her purse always had what she needed whether it be a wrapped bonbon for her whining sister, an absorbing cloth right as she started to bleed, or a replacement hair ribbon when someone’s broke.  
It was nothing extraordinary, just a nice little detail she noticed. 

As she grew older still and her world shrunk to the hat shop once her father died, she’d talk to the hats for lack of anyone else to talk to.

Her younger sister Lettie was a wild thing who tore around town with other feral children getting into trouble and making poor Fannie worry. It was no use trying to talk to her. She dealt with their father’s death through a nonstop frenzy of trouble  
Her youngest sister, Martha, was only a few years old and couldn’t even speak.

So Sophie became the responsible eldest sister and did her best to assist Fannie with the hat shop. The early years were stressful as they both had no idea what they were doing. 

_‘I wish I wasn’t stuck working here. I wish I could go to school,’_ Sophie would whisper to a hat as she sewed pearls into the brim. 

She’d put the hat out for sale and next thing she knew:

“Have you heard? Judy Fowler was just accepted into the Marsius School for Alchemical Studies! I thought the girl was dumb as an ox, but apparently not. I just heard her yelling about it while wearing one of our hats. The one with the pearls on it.” 

Sophie would be dying wool and she’d mutter, _‘I’d give anything to talk to my father again. Anything.”_

She’d put the finished hat out for sale and next thing she knew:

“Have you heard? The Crowley’s just received a letter from Adam. Yes, the boy has been dead for two years now when he went overseas to join the war in Iqbal. Apparently, he sent a letter out right before he died but it got lost in the transcontinental mail. It just made home yesterday. I found out because I was visiting to collect on the I.O.U Amy left for the hat she bought – the green one you dyed a few days ago – and the whole house was a-fury! It was such a sweet scene, Sophie, you would have cried.”

It took a while for Sophie to notice the concurrences, as bare as they were, but once she did she attempted to test her theory out.

“You look like a hat that would…run away and meet a prince.”

And sure enough, a few weeks later the town was in a tizzy over the abscondence of Mr. Ray Parker who was allegedly seen walking the streets of Valonia with a mysterious and regal looking stranger. 

It didn’t take long for the small of village of Market Chipping to correlate these strange new occurrences to Hatter’s Hats and the store became a little phenomenon.  
Not every hat granted a brilliant and exciting future, but those that did were worth the gamble.

It was great fun for Sophie. She kept it her little secret and would have happily spent her time causing random reversals of fortune if her power hadn’t escalated. 

One time she got into a fight with Lettie for allegedly stealing and tearing her good stockings. 

“Why would I need to steal your dirty old stockings, anyway?” Lettie yelled. “They’re all ugly and ratty way. You dress like a 90 year old grandma!”

“I do not!” said Sophie.

“You do! Look!” Lettie reached into Sophie’s drawer to pull out an article of clothing.

“Stop touching my things!” Sophie screamed.  
The drawer slammed shut on Lettie’s fingers.

Sophie stopped using her magic after that. As she bandaged Lettie’s purple fingers she promised that she was done forever. There was a thin line between eldest sister and wicked witch. The magic didn’t listen. It would find bold ways to manifest itself in Sophie’s life. She’d think about getting the mail and the door would burst open. Her boot laces would tie themselves in intractable knots. It killed her sewing machine. And all of that happened when she was in a good mood.

The shop bell jingled indicating that someone was stepping through the door. It was only a half an hour from closing. She took her work into the shop proper. The other shop girls were already gone, leaving her to deal with the troop of customers. It was Bea Rarefold and her brood.  
As they touched and picked at the more expensive items, they talked. Sophie sat invisible behind the counter. 

“…she suddenly turned up out of the blue at the edge of town after two entire days. Ever since my father won’t let me out after dark without an escort,” said Bea.

“Poor Kitty. I hope she’ll be ok. Her parents aren’t allowing visitors so I have no idea how she’s doing,” said Lizzy.

“I wonder what she’s been doing the past three days. Do you think she’s all scarred up? Do you think it hurt?” asked Gladys.

“Don’t say that! I don’t want to think about this anymore, it’s too frightening. I have to walk all the way back to Maystown, remember?”

Bea pulled a derby hat over her curls. 

“Don’t you worry, Lizzy. Howl only likes pretty girls.”

Lizzy pouted as the other two burst into giggles before turning on Sophie. 

“Miss Sophie, have you got anything new you’ve been working on-”  
“Where is that hat I was looking at last week? The one with the pearls-”  
“I love the purple silk cloche, but I think it’s too big for a takeaway, could you measure me-”  
“Can I have the feathered yellow one, please? I love it so-”  
“Say, Miss Sophie, did you hear about what happened to Kitty? _She_ got her _heart_ eaten by _Wizard Howl_!”

It was the last statement that caught Sophie’s attention.  
“She what? Is she all right? What happened?” 

Bea leaned against the counter and ducked to meet her eye level. “Supposedly she was wandering around The Wastes and ‘accidentally’ found his castle. She’s home right now, but no one is allowed to see her. I can’t believe it. Of all the people in the world…she’s not even that pretty.”

“Bea!” Gladys exclaimed. 

“What? He’s evil, cold hearted, foul souled and only eats the hearts of pretty girls. I don’t make the rules,” Bea replied. “To think, he’s out there in his moving castle filled with priceless treasures right now, probably plotting on more women…” 

Sophie furrowed her brows and stared at the half-finished hat in front of her. “A moving castle? Why has no one killed him yet?”

Bea had moved to the edge of the room and was inspecting her reflection. “Kill him! Miss Sophie, don’t be grim. As long as we stay out of The Wastes we’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re…well, it doesn’t matter. We’re having tea at Caesari’s later, Miss Sophie. You should stop by. Lettie says you haven’t visited her in a while.”

Gladys and Lizzy asked Sophie about the hats they wanted, but she didn’t hear them. She was too busy staring at her hands holding the hat needle.

“What has Wizard Howl got in this castle of his? Would you happen to know?” she suddenly asked. 

“Oh, who knows,” Bea said, lingering by a summer straw hat. “Treasure? Magic amulets? Paper hats in a row?”

“I heard that it’s filled with the corpses of the girl’s he’s killed and that he weaves their still growing hair into gold!” Gladys said.

“That is disgusting!” Bea said. “Don’t ever make something up that horrible again.”

“Besides, he doesn’t kill them, obviously, Kitty is still alive,” Lizzy said. 

“But I heard it!” 

“I suppose,” Sophie said, her calm voice cutting through the chaos. “I suppose he must be very powerful.”

“I suppose,” Bea said slowly. “Why do you ask?”

Sophie’s shoulders jerked up and she went back to threading leaves and fake deer antlers into a hat. “I was simply thinking, that’s all.”

Bea sauntered back over to the main counter where Sophie was working and leaned over the glass. “Now see here, Miss Sophie. You aren’t planning to do anything…silly, are you? Because I won’t be held responsible for you taking up any silly notions.”

“Not at all, Miss Bea.” She didn’t even look up.

Bea frowned and stood up. “All right. Well, I’ll be taking my leave now. Goodbye, Miss Sophie.”  
“Goodbye, Miss Bea.”

The girls left a silence that seemed to swallow Sophie whole.

~

As she lay in bed that night, in the one room apartment above the hat shop, Sophie stared out the window. It was an abysmal view of the deserted, dead, withering, grey wastes. From the window to her horizon was nothing but short, scraggly grass and bushes that could survive nowhere else.

Somewhere out there was Wizard Howl with a castle full of…what, exactly? Something worth murdering for? Something worth dying for? 

She spent a lot of time researching ways to nullify magic, but she found nothing valuable. Market Chipping wasn’t exactly a thriving literary hub. If he was an all-powerful wizard, he must have something, shouldn’t he? He might know something.

And the Wizard himself. What was he like? Was he an ugly hulking creature that caught girls in his meaty, hair paws and sucked the straight from their chests? Or was he slender and seductive and had the girls rip out their ribcages and splatter their hearts right into his mouth?  
Was it painless?

Sophie was becoming desperate. The magic was becoming too unruly to ignore and too strong to control. She wanted it removed from her body, from her life. Every day she was edging closer and closer to wickedness.

Not only that, but Sophie swore, she _swore_ to her father that she would lead the way for her sisters. She was supposed to go out and learn the world so that when it was their time she could guide them and protect them. He made Lettie and Martha swear that they would wait for Sophie to lead the way, since he wouldn’t be there to do it for them. Her father had so much faith in her, and now he was dead and those promises couldn’t be undone.

If she wasn’t planning to venture out and botch up her future with some stupid prideful mistake, then she had better start squeezing out babies in order to be the sister that chose the ordinary, simple life in the countryside.

But she didn’t want to do that either. 

She just wanted to fulfill her responsibilities as the eldest sister, and then resume her life at the hat shop. She couldn’t do that if she was brewing witch’s potions and riding on broomsticks. 

That absolutely wasn’t an option. Right? 

She had to start moving this story along. Already some of the older people in the town were side eyeing her and her lack of progress. They mumbled about her poor dear little sisters, full of potential and wasting away. Of course, Martha and Lettie would never say anything to her about their futures, but she saw how antsy they were getting. She saw how Lettie would daydream wistfully about meeting her true love. She heard how Martha spoke nonstop about how she much progress she was gaining at her apprenticeship, and soon she would be fighting wicked witches and sailing around the world. 

In the morning she would call on Kitty Devorneigh. The sooner she got her life out of the way, the better.


	2. In which Sophie meets an annoying stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie meets a stranger and does some investigating.

Sophie dismissed the shop girls for lunch and locked up the shop at 12. She was going to use that hour to walk over to Maypole street (the nice part of town) and call on Kitty Devorneigh. Whether she would be seen or on, she wasn’t sure, but she had to try. She and Kitty had never been close, but Sophie didn’t think it too odd to inquire after Kitty’s health.

She pulled her plain straw hat over her hair, wrapped her shawl around her chest and was just about to lock up the shop, when a long hand pressed against the glass panel of the door. 

“Excuse me, miss,” a low voice all but whispered into Sophie’s ear. “I’m going in.” 

He tried to push past her, but Sophie put her back to the door and looked up. “No, you’re not.”

The man was two heads taller than Sophie, with rakishly long sandy blond hair that was artfully messy, but Sophie knew better. She had arranged hair like that around plenty of ostrich plume and porcupine quill hats. He was dressed like a dandy: baby blue jacket and trousers with scalloped sleeves embroidered with sparkling pink and gold squares. An emerald drop earring. Not even Sophie had earrings. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m closing for lunch. Come back in an hour,” Sophie said, her eyes focused on the point right above his eyebrows. It was an actor’s trick she learned

The man’s shiny white smile dimmed a few watts. “ _You’re_ the milliner?” he said.

“Yes. And I’m closing for lunch.”

“And you’re closing.”

She frowned.

The man looked behind him into the cobbled alley that connected the cul-de-sac where Sophie’s hat shop was to the rest of the town.

When he looked back at Sophie his smile was back on, and, if possible, his eyes were an even brighter shade of green. They looked like chips of sea glass.  
“Pardon me, Miss…”

“Hatter.”

“H-hatter?” he practically spat out. It was a reaction she often got.

“Yes. Hatter.”

“Well, Miss Hatter of Hatter’s Hat Shop would you mind making an exception this one time?”

“I’m sorry, but please come back in an hour. The shop will definitely be open by then.” She pushed off from the door, but the man stood in front of her.

“Miss Hatter,” he said. He looked over his shoulder briefly. “I am in desperate need of a hat. If you could just let me for just a second, it’ll only be a few moments.”

“The answer is no,” Sophie said firmly. “I’m in _desperate_ need of lunch, sir. I’m sure you can wait an hour for this hat.”

“Please! I’ll pay you twenty silvers if you’ll just let me! My mother- my very, very sick mother’s birthday is today and the party is in one hour. I’ll pay you triple for whatever I buy! She’s been clammering about a hat for weeks and I don’t dare disappoint her, her sickness has made her most fragile and…”

He said all of this while anxiously looking into the alley every few seconds to the point where Sophie was afraid he was going to give himself whiplash.

“Fine,” Sophie said, throwing her hands up in the air. “For your ‘very, very sick mother.’”

She took the keys out of her pocket, and, by chance, looked into the darkening alley. At the far end of it, at the point where her vision became blurry, Sophie thought she saw something. It was dark, pulsing, shining. She couldn’t tell if it was moving away from her or towards her, but maybe that was the perspective. The sound of blood rushing or the ocean thundering filled her ears like a steady pulse.

All of a sudden she was in the shop. The bell on top of the door clattered furiously as it was slammed shut.

Sophie blinked slowly. The roaring in her ears died out to the man asking her a question. He was leaning over her, his shadow a palpable weight on her skin.

“…new hats?”

“W-what?”

“Could you show me to your newer hats, Miss Hatter? I’m looking for something in a winter Kingsbury style,” he said.

“Ah…of course. Follow me.” Sophie brushed the hair out of her eyes and led him to the various parts of the store.

“These are our newer fashions, here on the left. The cheapest hats are on the window sill by the door, and the most expensive are behind the glass shelf. Over on that wall we have imported pieces. Tell me if you’d like to see a catalogue.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said. He inspected a large dark hat with holly berries and copper discs on its brim. “Do you make most of these yourselves?”

“Some of them,” she said shortly.

“Interesting.”

Sophie marched over to a random hat. “Here, this should be perfect for your mother. Kingsbury winter season. That’ll be 35 silvers. Do you need it altered?”

The man wasn’t even looking at her. He was poking his head into the stockroom.

“What are you doing?” Sophie shrieked.

“What about these hats?” he asked. He was looking up at the rusting steel top shelf lined with eccentric, elaborately made hats. “What are they?”

“They aren’t anything! Get out of there!”

“I’d like to buy that one.” He pointed at a wide brimmed purple hat with silver trimmings and gold stars. “Looks a bit like a teacup. And that one looks like a…like a fireplace, though I don’t know how. It’s cute. I want that one too.”

“You can’t have any of them. These aren’t for sale,” Sophie said through gritted teeth. 

“They are now. I’ll take them, please, Miss Hatter,” he said. 

“No they aren’t!”

“Why not? You obviously put a lot of effort into them. You should put them out for general sale,” he said. He ran his long fingers along the bronze inlays on the crown.

“Now see here, you’re not leaving this store with those hats. You’re not leaving this store with any hats! Get out, now! I never should have let you in here,” she said, pointing a rigid finger at the door. 

“20 gold crowns for both of them,” he said.

“I don’t want your money!”

“60.”

At that moment the front door chimed and Lettie glided in. “Sophie? I’m glad you’re in. I brought…”

She stopped and stared at the man. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” the man said. He acted like Sophie wasn’t even there. “Another Hatter, I presume? I see the resemblance.”

Lettie giggled. “Yes. I’m Lettie. Who are you?”

“I’m the man trying to convince your sister to sell me two of her lovely hats,” he said and gestured to the stockroom.

“Lettie,” Sophie said with a warning tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Sophie! Refusing customers? You know, just because you sold a baron earmuffs once, doesn’t mean you can be so selective,” Lettie said and followed the man. She dropped the paper bag she was carrying on the counter. “I’m sorry, sir. Which hats?”

He pointed to the two he wanted. “They’re very…visually stimulating. My ill mother would love them.”

“Your mother is ill? How awful,” Lettie said. She picked up the hook pole and lifted the hats from their stands. “You’re right, she will love them. Everyone does. They’re Sophie’s special-”

“Lettie, don’t touch those hats,” Sophie said.

“I offered her 60 gold crowns for them, but she still wouldn’t budge,” the man said.

Lettie stopped, her brows furrowing together. Her grip tightened on the hook. “Why?”

“Well, they’re lovely hats-“

“No, not you,” she said. “Sophie is everything alright here? Is this man bothering you?”

“Now wait a second-“

Lettie puffed up and held the pole in front of her like a pike. “Sir, if my sister is anything she’s sensible and there would be no benign reason why she wouldn’t sell you these hats. Is everything alright here, Sophie?”

Sophie rubbed her palm over her heated cheeks. “Yes, Lettie, everything is fine. Please put the poll down.”

“But why-“

“Those are my special hats that I do not sell to anyone,” she said in a rush. “It’s as simple and concrete as that.”

“Sophie,” Lettie muttered. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s offering 60-“

“100 gold!”

“-for them. That’s over a 200% mark up.”

“Those hats aren’t fit to be sold, they’re just hobby hats I make out of extra wool and ribbon. Can’t you see how strange that man is?”

“My ill mother would love that hat. Purple is her favorite color. This will be a birthday present she’ll not soon forget,” said the man.

“I bet he doesn’t even _have_ a sick mother,” hissed Sophie.

“Sophie!”

Lettie and Sophie stared at each other before Sophie rolled her eyes.

Lettie went into the stockroom and returned with the hats packaged in round striped boxes.

The man took them from her, and Sophie noted how his long fingers glided over Lettie’s. He reached into the pocked of his ridiculous coat and dropped a heavy, lace sachet on the counter. From the sound it made, Sophie was afraid it might crack the glass. And here you go. 110 gold, for the excellent service.”

The man winked. Lettie giggled. Sophie gagged. 

“If you need to count it, Miss Hatter senior,” he said pointedly. “I don’t mind at all. But I promise it’s all there.”

She was about to open her mouth to comment on why he had 110 gold pre-packaged in his pocket but thought better of it. “Please get out.” 

“Sophie!” Lettie hissed. 

“As you wish. Thank you so much, Lovely Lettie. My mother will love these,” he said. He lifted Lettie’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Miss Hatter.” He shot Sophie a haughty glance before leaving. The bell jangled shut.

“Lettie!”   
“Sophie!”   
“How could you!” they said in unison.

“He was gorgeous!” Lettie said. “I think he was the one.”

“Don’t start,” Sophie said. “Lettie, when I ban a customer, I mean for you to stand by me. Not undermine my authority and deliberately sell him my hats.”

“He’s banned now?”

“Obviously! You should have seen the way he barged in here. The man is a fruit cake.”

“Sophie, relax. You just made 110 gold! Now I brought you some day olds. They’re passion fruit cakes.”

She emptied out the paper bag she had brought on the table and arranged them neatly. A row of pink and red pastries that looked vaguely stiff.

“Thank you, Lovely Lettie,” Sophie said. 

“Do you think he’ll be back? I should have told him to come back.”

“Don’t. Start.” Sophie bit into a pastry. “You don’t even know his name.”

“Of course I- wait- but I asked, didn’t I?” Lettie said. “I did ask!”

“You did and he didn’t answer. He’s not the type of man you should be thinking about.”

“And what kind of man should I be thinking about? He’s the only worthwhile man who-” Lettie stopped abruptly and sighed discreetly.

“The only one who what?” asked Sophie.

“Sophie, it isn’t your fault every other man in this town is a dud. Maybe I should pick one and get it over with. Caesari’s is a good job and pays well. Maybe I’ll stick with it long term.”

The cakes turned tasteless in Sophie’s mouth. “No, you’re not. You’re too good for that, Lettie.”

“ _I’m_ too good for that? Sophie, you-“

“That’s enough, Lettie.”

Lettie sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

~

The next afternoon, Sophie managed to make it to Kitty’s front door with, thankfully, no interruption.  
The Deveneigh’s had an impressively large manor with a tall spiked gate, and a large green lawn filled with vegetables that all grew plump at the same time and remained fresh.

The butler led her to the cavernous sitting room. The paintings were still all there, bizarre and confusing with their color and subjects. Mrs. Deveneigh was an eccentric and it showed in tiny little touches and color choices around her house. 

“Sophie Hatter! I haven’t seen you in years. How are you, dear?” Mrs. Deveneigh appeared into the foyer and touched Sophie’s shoulders. “You look robust.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Devenigh, thank you. I’ve been busy with that hat shop,” Sophie said. She looked up at Mrs. Deveneigh’s wide, painted face.

“How wonderful to have complete control of your livelihood. How are your sisters?”

“Wonderful. They’re working and learning.” Sophie followed Mrs. Deveneigh through the cavernous halls of her house.

“Oh? What’s the youngest doing?”

“An apprenticeship to Madame Sulliman,” Sophie said.

“Ah, wonderful. That’s where she belongs. I knew it even when she was a baby.”

“Yes,” Sophie muttered. Of course Mrs. Deveneigh would say that. She was a youngest child. “Ehm, how is Kitty doing?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Deveneigh said. “She’s…doing her best. She is good.”

“I know you won’t let her have visitors, but I just wanted to ask about her-”

“No, Sophie, please. That wasn’t meant for you. You’re one of the good ones. It’s times like these that my Kitty is most vulnerable and she’ll need good, honest people like you around. She’s…oh, well you’ll see her yourself anyways. I’m glad you came, Sophie. She’ll be happy to see you,” Mrs. Deveneigh said as they climbed the grand staircase to the second floor. 

When she reached Kitty’s door, she knocked gently. “Kitty? I’ve got a visitor for you. It’s Sophie Hatter.”

She held the door open and gestured for Sophie to walk in. “I’ll have Frieda send up some tea for you.”

Kitty looked like a doll in the middle of her large canopied bed. Her room was filled with pink hearts and flowers and boxes of chocolates and white bears. 

“Sophie Hatter?” Kitty said. Her voice was thin and willowy. “Of all the people I expected to come gawk at me.”

“Hello, Kitty,” Sophie said. “You’re looking well.”

Kitty scoffed and turned her head into her feathered pillow. “Have you come to laugh at me too?”

“Of course not,” Sophie said, her voice going low to match the atmosphere for the room. “Has that been happening?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. Hard to imagine anyone laughing at Kitty Deveneigh and not with her.”

“I’ve changed as you no doubt notice,” Kitty said blinking large, finely lashed eyes. 

Sophie stepped over the gifts piled on the floor and sat down on the ivory lined seat next to Kitty’s bed. “Kitty, I won’t mince words. I came here to ask you questions.”

“Oh? About what?” Kitty replied too innocently.

“About the Wizard Howl.”

A slow smile spread across Kitty’s round pink lips. “I should write a notice called “Frequently Asked Questions” and glue it to my door.”

“What…what did he do to you?”

“You know what he did. Don’t waste a question on that, Miss Sophie. Your time here is finite.”

“But I don’t quite understand. He…ate your heart? But you’re still…still…”

“Still alive? I assure you, I’m not. I’m hanging on by a thread and I don’t know why.”

“But you survived. Aren’t you happy? You’re home safe. You’ll never have to see him again.”

“I’m quite aware, Miss Sophie. What else?”

Heavy velvet drapes were drawn across the two cathedral windows on the sides of Kitty’s bed. The room was shrouded in shadow. “Was it painful when he ate your…your heart?”

“Deliciously.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “What did he do to you, Kitty?”

“What do you think?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course he hurt me!”

“That’s not…But that’s not what made you sick,” Sophie said. “Is it? That’s not why you’re like this.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. Her jaws clenched around her pretty little tongue. “I’d let him hurt me hundreds of times. Thousands. At least that would mean he was with me.”

Frieda the maid bustled in with a tray of watercress sandwiches and hot tea. The girls took a moment to thank her and fill their mouths with something other than heavy words. 

“Lunch is almost over. I ought to go back to the shop,” Sophie said.

“Wouldn’t want to be late for that,” Kitty said. “So what’s your final question? I know you have one.”

“Eh…where’d you find him? Were you in the wastes?” 

“Why?” Kitty pushed the downy cover to her waist and sat up. “Are you looking for him?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other.

“You’re looking for the Wizard Howl?”

“I am.”

“But why? For what? Sophie!”

“Where did you meet him?”

“Tell me why first.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kitty’s pert lips trembled and her face flushed rose pink. “It does! I won’t tell you! Ever! It’s not fair! I should be…Sophie, stop it. You’re going to get hurt!”

“Don’t worry,” Sophie said with a slight laugh. She stood up. “Howl only eats pretty girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment! <3


	3. In which magic is done unwittingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange man is back and he's brought a whole lot of trouble with him.

A week after she visited Kitty, Sophie went to visit Madame Sulliman. It was a Sunday so she could take the whole day off to travel to the next town and back. Madame Sulliman lived on the edge of Morristown in a little cottage near a cliff. She was a witch. 

She had once spoken to Sophie about the latent magical potential she saw in her, but Sophie had firmly rebuffed it. She didn’t want training or private tutelage which was all Madame Sulliman would offer,

“Sophie!” Madame Sulliman said when Sophie entered the front yard. “Right on schedule as usual. How are you, my dear?”

“I’m doing well, Madame Sulliman. How are you?”

“Oh, if only magic could take care of arthritis! You wouldn’t believe what my knees were doing yesterday when it rained. To be 19 again,” Madame Sulliman said from her white rocking chair on the porch.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll remember to bring you some mint salve from Port Haven next time. Where is Martha?”

“Martha, that rapscallion. She ran off as soon as she knew you were coming. I’d wager she’s hiding out in the woods, getting ready to track mud all over my house.”

Sophie kept her face impassive. “Oh…all right. That’s all right. I came here to speak to you, anyways.”

“Whatever for dear? You haven’t gotten yourself into any trouble have you?”

Sophie felt her body go hot. “No! No, no, no, no nothing like that. I just have a few questions for you about…magic.”

“Magic! Oh, my dear, have you finally-“

“No. No, I haven’t. In fact, I’ve been reading those books you’ve sent me and I haven’t been able to manifest a single thing,” said Sophie. She sat on the wicker chair across from Madame Sulliman.  
“I fear the potential you saw in me may be reserved for my future children. I have no magical talent at all.”

Madame Sulliman sunk down in her chair. “I see. But I’m certain-“

“In any case, I actually wanted to speak to you about that. Do you know if its possible to lose magic? Or have it removed?”

“Lose magic?” Madame Sulliman began to fan herself with a lace kerchief she pulled from her bosom. “What a dreadful thought. Is that what you believe happened to you?”

“Perhaps. Eh, I wanted to know if it was possible.”

“My dear, you’d definitively notice if someone removed your magic from you. It is a grotesque experience that I’m ashamed to say I’ve witnessed first-hand. No, Sophie. You have not had your magic removed from you.”

“But it’s possible?” asked Sophie, at the edge of her seat. “Who could do such a thing?”

“Sadly, yes. It’s very possible. It takes a great force of power to do it, and a sorcerer of the darkest and most cunning arts. Oh, please let’s change the subject. I get chills thinking of it.”  
Madame Sulliman lifted her round body out of her rocking chair and waddled into the house. She was inches shorter than Sophie and was so plump she didn’t have wrinkles. 

Her kitchen was sized for her with low cabinets and a ceiling that almost touched Sophie’s hair. She set about boiling water for tea and fetching sweet bread. “Nothing like a cup of tea to beat back the shadows.”

Sophie watched from the doorway. Madame Sulliman’s reaction shook her. It wasn’t what she expected at all.

“Do you know Wizard Howl?” she blurted out.

Madame Sulliman glanced over her plump shoulder. “Howl? I knew one…Who is he?”

“I suppose he’s not all that famous. I was just wondering if you knew him, since he’s a wizard.”

“Howl…I knew a Young Howl Jenkins of Wales years ago. He was one of my last students before I retired. Howl Jenkins. Brilliant student, but very unfocused. Constantly daydreaming…is Jenkins the one you are looking for?”

“I think he is,” said Sophie. “All I know is that he is a wizard named Howl, and he has a moving castle out in the Wastes.”

Madame Sulliman blinked owlishly. “A moving castle? Absurd. No, I’ve never heard of anything like that. But he may be one in the same. There can only be so many Wizard Howls mucking about. Why do you ask, my dear?”

“Because- because…” Sophie tried to come up with a suitable lie but realized she couldn’t even come up with an actual truth. Why was she looking for Wizard Howl, eater of hearts and destroyer of young pretty women? To aid her on her suicide mission? Because she actually thought he might help a weak little nobody like her?

If she wanted to go out on an adventure and fail miserably, this was fine practice. She wasn’t a single step closer to Wizard Howl than she had been when she had started.   
Why was she running on this fool’s errand?

Because Kitty had said it was painless and she was a coward, that’s why. Even if she wasn’t pretty enough for his taste in hearts, maybe her magic would be good enough.   
Most importantly Kitty was alive and intact, which was more than could be said about dealings with other witches and wizards.   
He may be called Horrible Howl, but it seems he had a modicum of mercy when dealing with young women. 

This all might prove to be a painless, ultimately forgettable experience that would allow her to sister’s to leave the coop, and allow her to be locked up in her own coop, safe and sound until the end of time. 

But she couldn’t say all that to Madame Sulliman. 

“I just need…he’s a bit infamous in Market Chipping, is all. I just wanted to know where he was so I could avoid him.” 

“Oh, is that all? Why didn’t you just say so? I can help with that. Attend. Even if you don’t have magical predilections, you might still prove to be a formidable green witch. Magic isn’t just about talent. It’s 99% hard work.”   
She pulled dried herbs and bloomed flowers out of the cabinets as she spoke and arranged them into a heavy glass jar. “Sprinkle this into your bathwater every few days. It will shield you from those who wish you ill.”

“Thank you, Madame Sulliman,” Sophie said weakly. “I’m very grateful.”

“Not at all, sweet child. I hope it serves you well.” Madame Sulliman pushed a tray of biscuits into the oven. “Now. I bet you’re wondering how Martha is doing. Well, that girl…”

~  
Later that evening, Sophie was walking down the beaten path that led from Madame Sulliman’s cottage to the bus port, carrying the huge glass jar stuffed with plants.  
The sky was purpling into its deepest black and she only had the fading light of the sun to guide her way.

Coming towards her was a small familiar shape, outlined by the darkness behind it. Sophie set the jar down.

“Martha.”

The figure stopped a few feet away. “Sophie.”

Sophie lowered her arms, which she had raised in preparation for a hug. “How are you, darling? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Martha shrugged. Her face and knees were dirty. Her hair was a nest. “I’m fine.”

“Learning a lot? I just spoke to Madame Sulliman. She told me about everything you’re learning.”

Martha shrugged again. “It’s child’s play. I could learn it on my own.”

“Oh, really?” Sophie said with a slight smile. “Does that mean you’re ready to come back home?”

Martha scoffed and shuffled her feet like she was itching to leave. “No. I won’t be ready to go home for another twenty years.”

“I see,” Sophie said. “I left some books for you, so you can practice your reading. I hear you’re getting much better. I’m proud of you.”

“That’s because I haven’t got anything better to do than study, study, study. My friends always send me letters about all the places they’ve been to and the things they’re doing and I’m sitting here wasting days reading.”

“Martha, I-”

“You’re stuck in the hat shop, Lettie’s stuck in the dumb bakery, and I’m stuck here. It’s all par for the course for the Hatter sisters. I almost left last month, but I figured I had enough bad luck without breaking papa’s promise.”

“Martha, I want you to have adventures. I want you to explore the world. I know you’d make an amazing witch!” said Sophie.

“Oh, what would you know? You’ve spent your entire life in the shop and it’s probably where you’re going to die. Just like papa, just like mama. Just like me and Lettie, too!”

Sophie was stunned into silence, and she could see her own blatant shock reflected on Martha’s face.

Sophie left her youngest sister without another word.

~

The next morning, Sophie did not know what to do with the jar. It was unsightly, smelled strange, and took up too much room. 

Her heart hurt. She overslept and had to rush to open the shop. It was raining, so she couldn’t even go out for lunch. She was stuck with old tomato soup and tough goat meat.

For her troubles she decided to give herself two hours for lunch and closed the shop early.

Once the door was locked, she took the spell jar and upended it on her counter. Then she threw the jar itself across the room, not caring if it cracked. 

She grabbed wool, wiring, pins, and cardboard and began putting a hat together. She pricked her fingers thirty-seven times. She ruined a piece of fabric nine times. She buried her face in the hat and screamed four times.

When she was done with the base she sewed the flowers from Madame Sulliman’s protection spell into the band and crown. 

“This hat belongs to a stupid, stupid girl who can’t do anything right!” she said as she sewed. “She was right! You’re going to die in this hat shop right unmarried, unloved, and unknown because you’re too much of a coward to face the world. Papa was wrong about yout. It’s bad enough that you’re burying yourself alive, but do you have to do the same for Martha and Lettie? You’re a selfish and stupid hat!”

When she was done, she threw the hat on the ground and went to the giant glass jar that had rolled across the room. She put a sheet over it and stomped it to bits, screaming all the while that it was a bad hat, the worst hat.

She took the long jagged pieces of glass and began to work them into the wool of the spell flower hat, creating a giant, sharp monstrosity.

“You deserve to have Wizard Howl pull out your liver, pluck out your eyes, scalp your hair! But he won’t touch your heart, because you’re not pretty enough! Yes, Horrible Howl should come and take an awful hat like you, because at least you’ll be out of Lettie and Martha’s way!”

When the hat was done, she carefully carried it into the storage room and put them on the very top shelf.

After that, she reopened the shop.

~

At about six in the evening, after the shop had closed, Sophie had an unexpected guest. 

The man from three days ago burst into the shop, looking a mess. His blond hair was turning black at the roots and in frayed locks around his face. He was in a plain white shirt that was half tucked into black pajama trousers. His face which Sophie remembered was clear and pale was blotchy and red.

“You!” he shouted. The shop door banged against the wall. “Of all the inconsiderate, evil, obnoxious things that have been done to me, this is the least deserved. Who the hell do you think you are? Why are you doing to this? All I did was come in here and buy your stupid enchanted hats and you do this to me? Why? Is this your revenge for my graciously coming to your store and paying you three times what you deserved. I don’t know you. I don’t care about you! I haven’t even thought about you since my foot left your shop and yet you’re actively trying to destroy me! I won’t stand for it, especially not from some second rate weakling witch. I demand, this instant, that you stop that beacon at once or I swear you will rue this day!”

Sophie’s jaw went slack. “What?”

“Don’t play the dunce! Turn it off!”

Sophie slowly stood up from the counter and backed towards the storage room. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She enunciated each word carefully, trying not to let her voice waver. 

“Oh, don’t you look at me like I’m the crazy one, when you went through all this effort and I don’t even know you!...Wait. Do I know you?” The man said. “Is that what this is all about?”

“We’ve never met,” Sophie said. “I promise you. N-never.”

“Then what is this all about? You do realize you’re putting me in significant danger right now?”

Sophie swallowed and clasped her trembling hands together. That man was obviously insane. Her feelings about him had been right and now he was there to murder her. Was this how it was going to end for her? After all the stupid pointless trouble she went through.

“I’m s-sorry. If you want to return or exchange or whatever you want, it’s fine. Just don’t…”

“Oh, what’s this? Have you considered a career in acting? I think you’d be quite successful.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sophie said.

“You’ve been calling me all day, sending out a 100 mile beacon screaming my name, and now that I’m here you don’ know what I’m talking about?”

“Calling you? I don’t even know who you are!” said Sophie. Her nerves were raw and fraying. If the man shouted one more time she might actually collapse.

“Of course you do!” he yelled. “I’m-”

“Howl Pendragon.” 

Sophie and apparently Howl Pendragon turned to the door where the velvet voice had come from.

A woman in a white shawl that covered her hair was standing in the middle of the shop. She was short and fragile looking, yet her arms and legs were too long. They reminded Sophie of branches in winter, and her skin was a deep black color. 

“Of all the places I’d thought I’d find you in, a thinly veiled hat shop screaming your name wasn’t one of them. Ah, but it’s always the last place you’d think to look, isn’t it?” The woman’s face was as still as concrete. The only things that moved were her lips and her large ringed eyes.  
They slid to Sophie. “Are you another one of his victims, miss?”

Sophie said nothing. 

“You’ll have to tell me how you managed to lure him in. It must’ve been no easy task. Now, while I thank you for bringing him here, I’ll have to kindly request that you let me dole out the punishment. This calls for a more…qualified witch.”

Sophie vaguely realized that she was being allowed a reprieve. Suddenly her legs could move again, though she didn’t remember when they had stopped. Howl, apparently, was stock still in the middle of the room, staring at the woman like a mouse caught in a snake’s gaze. Sophie ran to the stockroom and locked the door.

She quietly sobbed. If she survived today, she swore she would never leave the hat shop ever again. She would never plan or scheme or try to have an adventure in her whole life. The hat shop was infested with witches and wizards! And one of them was the Wizard Howl! She had spoken to him like he was a normal person! She should be splayed out on the floor, chest carved open, missing a heart! But all that didn’t matter now, because he was apparently going to be dead in a matter of minutes.

Somehow she had summoned both him into the hat shop. She couldn’t think as to how that happened or why or when. The witch back there said she would dole out punishment. Did that mean that Howl had eaten her heart too? Was the man insane?   
Well, obviously he was, but still! 

There was a thunderous crash that made her and everything in the stockroom bounce into the air for a second.   
“Let me in! Let me in!” Howl was banging on the door, shrieking like a banshee. “Let me in this instant, Hatter!”

Crouching against the back wall, Sophie covered her ears and closed her eyes.

“You can’t leave me out here to die! You lured me here! This is your fault!”

Oh God, oh God, what should she do? If she even touched the door, she would probably be zapped by a million lightning bolts of magic. But Howl was right, somehow this was her fault and if he died, she wouldn’t know how to live with herself. Not with him screaming like that. 

She wanted to let him in, but-

The door slammed wide open and then swooped shut. She saw Howl for a split second, standing there with pure terror in his eyes. Hats and bolts of fabric were swirling around the room.  
The door opened again and then shut again, spasmodically, like the wings of a bat. 

“Help me, Hatter!” 

Sophie shot up and wrung her hands. Ok, ok think Sophie. What could she possibly do? She was just a girl, and they were two incredibly powerful sorcerers. 

There was another crash and Madame Sulliman’s protection hat fluttered to the ground. It was the only one that fell.

Sophie grabbed the hat and considered using it as a shield. The door was still flapping madly, but Howl was nowhere to be seen. They were going to smash the shop to pieces with her in it. She had to do something. She had to get them out. She- the hat flew out of her hands, a stretch of glass sliding across her palm taking drops of her blood with it. 

The slamming stopped, as did the crashing.   
Sophie wondered if she had gone deaf.

It took her a whole hour to finally leave the stockroom and see her hat shop. Everything was as it should have been. Not a thread out of place.

~

The next morning, Sophie did not open the hat shop, nor did she the day after that. Lettie may have stopped by, but she didn’t answer. All she did was make hats.

The shopgirls knocked on her door and asked if she was alright, but she refused all visitors and didn’t speak about what had happened the previous night. 

She made hats for babies and old men. Funeral hats and wedding veils. Winter ear flaps, and long brimmed summer hats. She even knitted a few scarves, but they didn’t come out very nice.  
By the end of the week, the storeroom was stuffed to the gills with hats. 

~

The next day, for the first time in a week, Sophie ventured out of her room. She wasn’t going to into the shop, God no, but she wanted a change of scenery. She went into the small walled garden in the back.

She sat at the little garden table they sometimes used for garden parties and stared at her hands. They were calloused and pricked raw. What could she do with all those hats? Only a three percent were fit to be out on display. She supposed she could donate the rest or simply throw out. What a waste of material though. She could make them into scraps and try to rework them into other projects, but that would be a shame. She worked so hard on them.

There was a delicate and masculine ahem and Sophie jumped ten feet in the air. The person who was staring at her sternly from behind the garden wall made her leap out of her chair and run towards the door.

“Miss Hatter! I saw you, you can’t pretend to not be there,” Wizard Howl said. His hair was perfectly bleached again, and he was wearing a gray and scarlet suit. He deftly leapt over the wall in such an airy way that she knew magic was involved. “Miss Hatter, this is just insulting. You can’t hide, not after what you did to me, and especially not after standing me up.”

He blocked the door, so Sophie pressed herself against a pillar, shaking and biting her fingers. Her heart was beating so loud, her whole body was pulsing.

“If you wanted to avoid me, the least you could do was cast an invisibility spell, or at least have a stronger barrier.” Wizard Howl approached Sophie for the third time.

“Now, Miss Hatter, shall we finish what we started?” he asked.

Sophie’s feet were stuck to the ground as if they had melted into it. She clutched at her shoulders while tears bubbled into her eyes. She was going to pass out or die or vomit or explode from the utter fear. 

“Miss Hatter?” Howl poked his head behind the wall and touched her shoulder. It was like a warm drop of water that seeped into her body and made her pliant. 

Two little white garden chairs scuttled over on their four legs and stopped right behind her and Wizard Howl. He pushed her into the chair before also sitting.

“Explain yourself.”

“Y-you’re Wizard Howl…”

“Why have you been calling me?” he asked

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Howl pinched the elegant bridge of his nose and ground his teeth together. “Miss Hatter, why must you insist on lying so obviously when we both know the truth?”

“I swear, I don’t know anything. I was just sitting in the shop when you burst in screaming at me and then that terrible woman came in,” Sophie said with a cracking voice.

“You’re completely ignoring the beacon you created!”

“I didn’t make any beacon!”

Howl stared at her with his arms crossed. He looked genuinely perplexed.  
“What kind of witch are you?”

“I’m not a witch!” The words came out louder than Sophie intended. “I’m not,” she said softly.

His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. “What in the world do you mean by that?”

“I’m not a witch! I’m just a girl!”

“How many times do you have to lie before we can get through a single conversation? Of course you’re a witch! Who else could have cast that spell and made those hats!”

“What spell? I swear to you I have never cast a spell in my life. There must be some type of mistake. Someone else must’ve been… casting… spells…I know what happened!” Sophie covered her mouth with her hands. “It was Madame Sulliman!”

“Madam Sulliman?” Howl said, his face twisting into an unattractive grimace. “How-”

“I had asked her for a protection spell, and she gave it to me, but I- I got…I decided to turn it into a hat and I was yelling at it – you see sometimes when I talk to hats – that’s not important. You must have sensed Madame Sulliman’s spell. You see, it wasn’t me! It was the hat!”

“I know very well it was the hat,” Howl growled. He pulled the broken glass spell hat from seemingly out of nowhere. Somehow the hat looked…deflated. Dead.

“But it wasn’t just that. Now either you’re lying again or you honestly don’t know you’re a witch. I’m inclined to believe it’s the former since you’ve been consorting with Madame Sulliman.”

“I’ve told you, I’m not a witch! She’s mentoring my sister, that’s all.”

“Then did she give you that beacon spell, too?” Howl asked.

“I don’t know what that is,” Sophie said. Frustration was battling against fear.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. When he looked up, his face was in a lined grimace. He made a tearing motion with his hand.

Sophie started speaking suddenly. She spoke about the events of that day, including how angry Martha had made her and how anxious she was to find Howl and how, to calm herself down, she decided to make hats.

She clapped her hands over her mouth once she was done compulsively talking.

“And why were you so keen on finding me?” Howl asked. He was leaning forward in his seat, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I wanted you to take my magic,” Sophie blurted out through her fingers.

Howl went rigid. “Take your- what?”

Sophie just stared at the ground, shocked at how much control Wizard Howl had over her. Would this awful scheme of hers ever end?

Howl rolled his eyes in exasperation and raised his hands, but Sophie shouted and huddled into herself.  
“Please, don’t,” she said, trying hard to stifle the tears breaking through her voice.

He slumped forward and rubbed his temple. “You say you’re not a witch, right Miss Hatter?”

“I’m not,” she repeated.

“And all you do is make hats?”

“Yes! It’s all I’ve ever done. It’s all I ever will do.”

The wind rustled through the meager sprouts in the garden. Muffled street noise floated through the window.

“I see,” said Wizard Howl. “Then, Miss Hatter, I believe I owe you an apology. You’re right. I must have been mistaken about you. You’re not a witch.”

Worse than fear, Sophie felt her cowardice taking over her body. It was a slow acting shame that made her want to scream. Why couldn’t she stop shaking? 

“Now Miss Hatter, enough of that.” Howl had kneeled in front of her and was gently pulling her hands away from her face. Where he touched her, the numbing peace spread through her bones, pushing out the pressure. “I believe you. It will be all right. I’m sorry about last week, even though I’m not completely sure about what happened. Repeat after me: everything will be ok.”

“Everything will be ok,” Sophie whispered. 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. I swear on my oath as a wizard that I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Though I would very much like to know why you wanted me to take your magic. What a horrid thought.”

Sophie took a deep shuddering breath. He wasn’t going to hurt her. She had been right about his merciful streak. But he looked like he was leaving. Permanently, if she was lucky. There was still a chance to make things right. 

“I’m not a witch,” she said. “So you see why I have a problem with my…magical tendencies. I’m just a hatter’s daughter. I’m not meant for magic. You should see Mart- my sister. She’s so young, but she’s so, so smart and talented. She’s the sorceress in the family. She’ll do good with it. But me? Everything I touch turns sour. It would be best for everyone – not just me – if I wasn’t able to employ magic. Please, if you know a way to help me…”

He hadn’t tried to kill her yet, and if things went well, this would be the last time she ever saw him.

She sniffled, though this time the tears were different.   
“It wasn’t meant to be like this. I’m supposed to venture out and discover the world and make it safe for my sisters, but I can’t. The world is scary and difficult. Market Chipping is safe and it’s my home. There’s no room for magic here.”

“I know my reputation may precede me…weren’t you frightened?” Howl asked.

“Of course I was, but Kitty told me it didn’t hurt, or it hurt a lot, or something. And I never heard of you killing anyone, so I knew that I’d escape this alive and with all my limbs,” she said. 

Howl moved back so he was sitting in the chair again and Sophie felt his absence like a gust of air. The overwhelming frightening feelings crept in a little bit. 

“I see,” he said. “So, you wanted to use me to cheat your fate.”

Sophie snorted. “My fate? That’s not may fate. I’ve already told you what my fate is.” 

She looked to the window and thought it odd that none of the shop girls had looked out the window or come through the door. If they had, they may have found it very odd to see Sophie Hatter sitting with an extremely handsome gentleman who may or may not have been confirmed to be the Wizard Howl.

“You told me what you want your fate to be…and Kitty,” Howl said. “Who is that?”

Sophie grabbed her long brown braid and twisted it around her hand.   
“You don’t remember Kitty?”

There was a pause. 

“Let me guess…I made her into a living corpse?”

“You ate her heart!” Sophie exclaimed. “Do you attack women that often?”

Howl leaned against his knees. “That’s a new one. I suppose you could say that.”

“Oh,” said Sophie. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, thoroughly disillusioned.

“Miss Hatter, I’d very much appreciate if you’d hold off on judging me until after I leave your shop.” He stood up suddenly twirling the glass hat around. “Could you tell me about your hats? The ones in the storeroom that are like this one.”

“Um, you mean the top shelf hats? Those are just flights of fancy. Whenever I’m feeling creative I make a hat. Only the good ones ever make it to the stockroom.”

“Then why don’t you sell them?” He asked. “It’s hard to believe you would leave this sitting up here to collect dust.”

“I do sell them,” Sophie snapped. “I mean, not just for money. I give them away.”

“To whom?”

“Whomever I feel like.”

Howl smiled sardonically. “I see. Then I apologize for the other day. I’ll return the two hats I bought if you’d like.”

“It’s fine,” Sophie said. “…I heard you have a castle. That …moves?”

He looked like he was stifling laughter. “Yes, that’s right.”

“That’s very interesting,” Sophie said. “Is it big? With steeples and towers? Does it have wheels?”

“Not exactly,” Howl said carefully. He put the hat back where it belonged. “I use a broad definition of the word ‘castle.’ Would you like to see it?”

“Is it close by?” Sophie asked without thinking.

“Yes, just a few minutes walk in the wastes. I cloaked it so it would be hard to find,” Howl said. He leapt onto the garden wall using that same buoyancy and looked back at her expectantly. “Shall we?”

Sophie clasped her hands in front of her. She took a step back. “Um, n-no. I’m sorry, but I can’t leave the shop,” she said. “I couldn’t just leave it.”

Howl looked like he was about to say something, but he just nodded. “Of course. Another time then, Miss Hatter.”

She nodded. “Goodbye.”

He hesitated for a second, as if expecting her to change her mind or say something further, but then he jumped off the wall. The moment he was gone it was like real life resumed. The sounds of Market Chipping that she didn’t realize were missing spilled into the garden. Birds were chirping again, voices from the shop floated in, wagon wheels craggled against the cobblestones.

Sophie drummed her fingers against the chair arm, before deciding to grab her shawl and leave. She wanted to go for a walk. Not to find lunch or make a delivery or do research on a subject far beyond her depth. Just a simple, pointless walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review!


	4. In which Sophie neglects good advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie has some questions. She pays the price for the answers.

It had been a week since the last disturbance in her shot, and Sophie was happy. The hats were selling steadily, she was getting a lot of commissions and attentions. Some of the clients were very high profile. The work was keeping her busy. She even had lunch with Bea and her brood one time.  
And most importantly, no witches or wizards set foot in her shop. She should know, because she was keeping a very sharp eye out for them.

Any time a blond head popped through the door, Sophie jerked up automatically, no matter what she was doing. At the top of a ladder, or getting a ribbon from the bottom door, she was at instant attention.  
Fortunately, it was never him. 

At this point, Sophie wasn’t even sure that day was real. How could someone like her have possibly met the Wizard Howl and survived it? It’s true he only ate the hearts of pretty girls, but she figured she was good enough for a liver or a main artery. 

She must have hallucinated the whole thing. Yes, it was all fake. Such things did not happen to the first daughters of hatters. 

But…there was one thing that kept pricking her, like a needle in her pocket. Howl and that Witch Woman both called her a witch. Multiple times. Why in God’s name would they think that she was a witch?   
Yes, she had magic, but hardly enough to be identified as a witch. The only reason Madame Sulliman recognized her potential was because she was trained to do so, and even then it was only a small flame. A spider bite of magic. She would have to learn and train for years before she could be called a witch. 

That must mean she was getting worse. They said she had somehow ‘called’ Wizard Howl, but she hadn’t. Or at least she hadn’t intended to. What else was she doing unintentionally? Who else was she calling?

Sophie should have called on Madame Sulliman and begged for help. Sent her a detailed letter confessing everything. Traveled to Morristown to begin training to either suppress or refine her magical abilities. 

That’s what Sophie _should_ have done. 

Instead, for the first time in her life, Sophie decided to make a left turn, instead of a right; to pull out her umbrella, instead of staying in for the day. 

The next morning, Sophie visited The Wastes. 

Wizard Howl had said his castle was just a few minutes walk away, but that had been a week ago. Who knows where currently he was. 

Sophie stood at the edge of the vast, scrubby plain that lay at the edges of town. It looked completely empty, not even a tree to break the monotony. In the far off distance she could see the beginnings of hills and great mountains.

She looked to her left. She looked to her right.

“Hello? Is anyone out there?” she yelled. She began walking into the Wastes, stepping over small rocks and bushes. “Hello?”

The farther in she got, the worse the wind got. Her shawl was whipping around her neck and face, and it was getting harder to walk. It was cold. The ground got rockier and more uneven. She was more than a few minutes into The Wastes. What was she doing? Didn’t she swear to herself that she would stop looking for danger and adventure and especially for Wizard Howl?   
How could she be putting herself through this again?

“Hello?!” 

Her voice got lost in the wind that was currently whipping all of her clothes into a froth. There was nothing out there, cloaked or not. Howl was probably gone. How long does it take to eat the heart of every girl in town? Oh, pardon. Every _pretty_ girl in town?

Sophie pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders, yet could not keep out the terrible chill. This was a mistake. A total waste of what could have been a profitable day.  
This was _foolhardy._  
She was done with magic and adventure. For real this time She knew where she belonged and it wasn’t out there in the terrible Wastes.

As she turned, Sophie saw a plume of steam shoot out into the sky from seemingly nowhere. The roaring she heard, was it the wind or was it more mechanical then she had previously thought?   
Her heart began to pound. It coincided with the deep thudding shaking the earth. Something was coming towards her. The wastes looked empty for the most part, except for something massive and blurry in front of her. It looked like the shadow of a cloud, but Sophie hoped she knew better.

She stood her ground and shut her eyes tight. After this, she swore, after this she would not mess with fate anymore. This was the last time, but she just had to see this through. For Martha. For Lettie. For herself. The thudding had gotten louder. She could feel the vibration in her bones. There was definitely a mechanical wail piercing the thick air of the Wastes, and the faint smell of oil and coal.

The noise suddenly stopped, but the strident smell was right under her nose. She cracked open one and saw a long rusted metal slat at her feet. She automatically stumbled to the ground. It was the only way she could properly see the immensity of what it led to.

An awful heap of metal and bolts was hulking over her. She had to take a few seconds to make sense of what her eyes were seeing. It was like a giant head on four bird’s feet with two bulging snail eyes that were pointed at her. This definitely could not be Howl’s moving castle, no matter how much he stretched the word castle. The thing was a monstrosity. 

She traced the metal slat with her eyes as it disappeared into a black gaping maw that was apparently a mouth. The thing at her feet was a tongue.

And if that was the case, then Sophie was now at the mercy of some kind of rogue sorcerer that probably targeted average-looking girls. She let out a scream that was immediately swept away by the gusts.

She scrambled backwards, tripping over her own feet and scraping her palms bloody. She managed to gain traction and start running. Too slow.

The metal thing descended from the sky onto her back. It pressed her into the dirt before wrapping around her and literally swallowing her in darkness.

~

Sophie woke up gasping. She was in some kind of house. The floor was wooden, the walls were mint green. There were a variety of dried spices hanging on the wall, and a roaring fire set in an alcove on the wall. Her face was currently pressed into a dusty Berber rug. She was freezing, but her skin was prickling from the sudden heat of the fire. There was no sign of a tongue or a mouth or a giant metal head roaming the countryside.

She felt like it had all been an extremely vivid hallucination. Fine. A little nauseous, but fine. Maybe. Hopefully.

Sophie slowly sat up, but winced as her palms hit the floor. They were scraped raw. Her pinky nail was broken to the bit.

This wasn’t any house she had ever been in. Perhaps she had fainted, and someone carried her to their home. But where were they? This house, as far as she knew, seemed empty. And why was she splayed out on the floor like a spilled drink?

She got to her knees, tried to stand, immediately had to sit back down and rip off her left boot and stocking. Her knee was a tennis ball, and a venomous purple. It began to sting more the longer she looked at it.

“That looks bad.”

Sophie’s head snapped up. The room was empty. 

“Ice might do it good. But what would I know? I’m no doctor.”

Sophie frowned and tried to be relieved at not being alone but couldn’t muster the feeling. Instead all she felt was vague dread. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

“In the fire.” And indeed the voice seemed to be originating from there.

Sophie uneasily turned her head. There was a pair of bone white eyes staring at her floating around in the blue green fire that had once been red.

“Oh god,” Sophie said. “Oh god.” 

“What’s the matter? Maybe I was too rough with you,” the fire said. “Are you all right?”

Sophie remembered a long time ago, back before Martha was born, seeing Madame Sulliman conjure up a fire demon in order to ask it questions for a spell. It had been old and frightening with a rasping fearsome voice. 

“Um, where am I?” she asked, her voice creaking and jumping.

“What do you mean where are you? Weren’t you looking for me?” the fire asked. 

Sophie nearly beat her head against the ground. Not this again. “Who are you? I wasn’t calling a fire demon-”

“Then why were you in the wastes looking for me? Howl was right. You are infuriating,” The fire said.

“Howl?” Sophie said, way too loudly. 

“Yes, Howl,” the fire enunciated. “Don’t worry, he told me all about you, so don’t try pulling any of your witchy tricks on me.”

“I’m not a witch!”

“And it begins,” the fire said. The eyes receded into the shadows.

“Wait!” Sophie said. “Please. Is this…Wizard Howl’s castle?”

“Of course it is! Are you done with the dummy act already?”

“Hey! Ugh. That metal thing that swallowed me…is this the belly or something?”

“How can a castle have a belly?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie snapped. “I’ll tell you when I visit an actual castle, but for now would you please answer my questions?”

“Well I never!” The fire yelled and spilled over the grate it was behind.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sophie said. “Please, I’m just…in a lot of pain and I’m very confused…so I’m in a Wizard's castle. It’s very lovely, by the way.”

“Obviously,” the fire said. 

“And you seem to know me…um, how?”

“Howl,” was all the fire said. It burned low in the fireplace.

“Ok. Is it just us in here?”

“When can I ask you questions?” the fire asked.

“What do you want to know?” Sophie asked uneasily.

“Why were you looking for us? You’re not trying to do something to Howl are you?” The fire sounded more curious, than angry. 

“No…”

“Then why?”

“Well…I just wanted to ask him some questions.”

“Like what?”

“They’re private questions.”

“You won’t get much more private than me,” the fire said. 

Sophie was thoroughly warm by now. She scooted back until she was leaning against an overstuffed ragged couch. 

“Why,” Sophie said slowly. “Why does everyone keep calling me a witch? What is happening to me?”

The fire was silent for a moment. “Do you not like witch? Would you prefer enchantress or something like that? To be honest, you seem weak to be demanding fancy titles from people.”

“That’s the point,” Sophie said. “I’m weak. Whatever magic I have, I want it out of me. Do you know how to remove magic? Could you do it?”

“Hm, I guess this is what Howl was talking about,” the fire muttered. “Of course I could do it. But I won’t. That would be blasphemous. As lowly as you are, human, you’re still part of the magical race. I could never harm kin. You know you have magic, so why fight it? If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, then you’re a witch.

“I’m not a witch! I don’t know how many times I’ve got to say it!” Sophie shrieked. Her voice echoed before leaving the room in utter silence. “I want to scrape every last bit of magic out of my body and throw it into a pit and bury it! I want to be a normal girl!”

The fire wavered in the grate. “Lady. You’re insane.”

Sophie groaned and lay on the floor. Her hands stung with the slightest movement. She could feel her knee doubling in size. She wasn’t going to be walking for a while.   
“Could you take me to Market Chipping? Please?”

“Market Chipping? We just passed it. Is that where you’re from? I have to complete my circuit, so we should be circling back to Market Chipping in about…six hours.”

Sophie began to sob, and nothing the fire said helped. This is how Wizard Howl and his apprentice Markl found her.

~

“Does she belong to the Witch of the Waste?”

“Be quiet, Markl, that’s not helping.”

“But how did she get here? Could she have forced her way in?”

“Use what I taught you, Markl. Does she look like she could force her way into a conversation, never mind a magically fortified castle?”

“Well, no, but then that would mean-”

“Don’t look at me. I have nothing to do with it.”

“But then how did she get in here, Calcifer? You’re supposed to be on guard when we’re gone!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me! I don’t respond to bullies.”

“I’m not yelling! Are you sure she’s not with the Witch of the Wastes, Master Howl?”

“Why would I let the Witch of the Wastes in here?”

“Miss Hatter? Are you all right?”

A soft hand woke Sophie from the vague half sleep she had been in. She lifted her head and jerked back from how close Wizard Howl’s face was to hers.

“Apologies, Miss Hatter,” Howl said and leaned back on his haunches. He did not remove his hand, though. That may have contributed to the calm that she felt. 

“Um, yes, thank you. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” A younger boy who looked to be almost Martha’s age poked his shaggy head over Wizard Howl’s shoulder. “Your knee is sprained. And you left blood on our rug!”

“Markl.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She quickly lifted her hands from the rug and looked at the mess she had made. Blood, boots and stockings were strewn around her. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Relax, Miss Hatter. It’s all right.”

“Is it really?” she said. She looked around his shoulder at The Fire. “Where are we? Have we been moving this entire time?”

“I’m not talking to you, witch. You fell asleep on me!”

“Calcifer! What did I-”

“So she is a witch! I knew it! What are we going to do, Master Howl?”

Sophie moaned and planted her face in her hands again. “I can’t believe this.”

“Markl, go to your room and work on the spell I left for you.” Wizard Howl’s tone left no room for argument.

The little boy frowned at Sophie and didn’t take his eyes off of her as he sludged up the stairs.

“Now, Miss Hatter…what exactly are you doing in my home?”

If the wizard was embarrassed to ask her that, it didn’t show on his face, but Sophie was embarrassed to hear it. She was in his home, wasn’t she? Uninvited with no obvious reason for being there? He must thing she was some kind of fanatic. First she was apparently ‘calling’ him to her shop, and now here she was in his home.

She shot a quick glance at the fire who was burning low in its hearth, staring at them. 

“Your house ate me,” she said.

“It is not true, Howl!” the fire burst out. “I did no such thing! I found her wandering the Wastes, shivering and calling out for me, and I kindly decided to help her!”

“It was kind!” Sophie said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I…I suppose I was looking for your moving castle. Because I just wanted to ask you some questions. But I figured it all out now, so it was quite pointless for me to stay here. I’m sorry.”  
But she didn’t move. Her leg was throbbing.

“What kind of questions?” 

“It doesn’t really matter,” she said, though her eyes were filling with tears.

“She wanted to know why people called her a witch. I kindly told her why. It’s because she is a witch,” The fire said sagely.

“Ah,” Wizard Howl said. “I see. Miss Hatter, do you mind if we talk? I can answer any questions if you have any, and I’ll take you straight back to your hat shop afterwards. In the meantime, I’ll do something about your foot and hands.”

She nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. 

He inserted a hand under her knees and behind her back and lifted her onto the couch, then he pulled up a stool and sat on it. He lifted her leg carefully and pressed his finger on the knot. “Calcifer, some hot water for tea, please.”

“Calcifer,” Sophie repeated. “Is that your name?”

“Yes! I am an extremely powerful fire demon. I move the castle,” Calcifer said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Calcifer. I’m Sophie.”

“Hi, Sophie.”

“So, Miss Hatter,” Wizard Howl said. “No one has ever told you that you had a natural magical talent?”

“All I’ve heard is that I have a slight tendency. I don’t how it’s gotten so out of control.”

“You are a witch, albeit a weak one. Think of magic like a plant. In some people it’s a flower. With neglect, it will eventually dry out forever. In others, it’s a weed and will grow regardless of circumstance or situation. You are, fortunately or unfortunately, a weed. With some practice and mentoring, you could become very formidable.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No, thank you. I want nothing to do with witchcraft.”

Howl pressed his thumb into the base of her foot and a green light glowed around it and travelled to her knee. “And why not?”

He sounded a bit piqued, and Sophie almost forgot that he was a wizard himself. “Not to offend but magic just isn’t for me. I’m the eldest child. I’ve already planned my life.”

“I see. But this is your natural talent. Being the eldest can’t be all that damning if you have something like that to work with,” Howl said. 

“I know what happens to eldest daughter witches,” Sophie said quietly. “I want no part of it.”

A heavy silence followed her words. A cup of steaming tea appeared on the little table by her elbow, but she didn’t touch it. “Thank you for the tea, Calcifer.”

“Evil isn’t innate,” Howl said. “You don’t have to be a wicked witch if you don’t want to. We generally have a choice in the matter.”

“I’d rather not take the chance, thank you,” Sophie said. Her knee was feeling much better. It was an ugly yellow color, but it was back to its normal size. Howl took her right palm first.

“That’s rather bull headed, isn’t it?” Howl asked, not looking at her.

“I’d call it being safe,” Sophie said.  
“Well, I say wasting talent is the most evil thing you can do. You’ve never noticed _anything_?” He set both her hands down after they were healed and moved to the dusty, broken shelf in the corner.

“I didn’t say that,” Sophie said. “I just ignored it. They were nothings. Small coincidences, I never paid any real attention to. It wasn’t until a few years ago that things started to change for the worse.”

Wizard Howl dumped a thick, moldy book on Sophie’s lap. “Read this when you get the chance. It might help you.”

“What is it?” She lifted the front cover, and it broke off in a cloud of dust. The first page said ‘Light and Intent.’

“Miss Hatter,” Howl said. “You are a witch whether you like it or not, and you’ve been playing a dangerous game by ignoring your powers. You could be turning to dark magic, and you wouldn’t even know it. By educating yourself, you stand a better chance of keeping your magic light, positive and good. So, read up.”

Sophie frowned at the book. “I’m not sure that I should be…um…not that I’m not grateful, but…should I be listening to…to someone like…”

Howl was ignoring her as he pillaged the bookshelf, but Calcifer seemed to understand what she was getting at. He started laughing with mellow wisps of purple flame.  
“She’s got a point, Howl. Should you be the one giving suggestions on how to be good?”

Howl stiffened and glared at Calcifer with his eyes like a dull glass. When he turned to Sophie, his expression was flat. “Be that as it may, Miss Hatter, I still think you would greatly benefit from these. Though I won’t force you to take advice from _someone like me_.”

“I think I’ve imposed long enough. It’s probably very late out. I should be going home.” Sophie looked out of the small window located in the kitchen. She froze. Indeed, it was late out, but also suddenly there was the ocean hidden behind a few rows of houses. She ran to the window, not noticing the numbness of her leg.  
“Is that…is that the ocean? But how? Have you stopped for the night? But we’re in the middle of a town.” 

Without thinking, she pushed open the window and stuck her head out. The air was a cold salty brine, and she could hear shops closing and people talking. She saw a sign that said ‘Port Haven Shoe Shine.’

Port Haven? But that was hundreds of miles south. How long had she been asleep?

“Port Haven?”

She closed the window and went to the door, feeling quite manic. It would take her days to get back to Market Chipping, not to mention she didn’t even have any money to take a bus or a train back.   
Wizard Howl was blocking the door with one hand. “Not so fast, Miss Hatter. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“And why not?”

“You’d be scattered across the wastes,” chirped Calcifer from the fireplace. “You looked through the Port Haven window, but the castle door is still set on the Wastes. You’d be swept away by the wind and probably break your neck.”

“Calcifer,” Howl said, sounding genuinely appalled. “When did you become such a blabber mouth?”

Calcifer simmered low, and Howl crossed his arms. “Not to worry, Miss Hatter, we’ll get you home safe in no time. Just sit tight, and please do not touch anything. That pile by the couch is yours to keep. You probably won’t be here by the time I’m back , so goodbye and good luck. Calcifer, hot water for my bath, please.”

Howl left her standing by the door, still trying to figure out what Calcifer meant by the castle door still being set on the Wastes.  
She looked up and noticed a panel with four blobs of color, blue, purple, yellow and black, on four corners. It was yellow side down, but it suddenly spun to purple.

Sophie turned. Howl was nowhere to be seen, but Calcifer was peeking out of his grate with what seemed to be a smile on his face.

Sophie, though still wary about having her parts scattered, took it as a good sign. She carefully opened the door and fell out into Kingsbury. She’d recognize the royal city anywhere, with its grand towers and colorful buildings. Though it was almost nights, carriages were still clattering across the cobbled streets and gaslights were blazing brightly. She watched women go by in heavily feathered embossed hats.  
Sophie slammed the door, went on her tippy toes and spun the dial to blue. Her hypothesis was correct. She was back in Port Haven. The wild sea wind whipped her hair into ribbons and she ran out into the dark street, trying to get a better glimpse of the ocean.

She tried the yellow blob, and predictably, she saw the Wastes racing by at top speed. The ground was a grey blur.

She tried to turn the dial to black, but it was stuck at yellow.

“Not a good idea, Sophie,” was all Calcifer said. 

Sophie pulled up a chair to the fireplace. “How long will it be till we get back to Market Chipping?”

“Maybe an hour, thirty minutes if I hurry,” the fire said.

“Don’t exert yourself,” Sophie said. 

Calcifer regarded her with big, wavering eyes. “That’s all I do around here. Exert myself. I’m practically a slave.”

“That’s terrible! You can’t leave?”

“No. There’s a curse. There always is.”

“Well, how do you break it?”

Calcifer flickered back and forth suggestively. 

Sophie cocked her head and then shook it furiously. “Oh, no Calcifer. I couldn’t. Not me, you don’t want me. Anyone else in the world would be able to break your spell. Knowing me, I’d make it worst.”

“A witch would be the perfect person to break this curse and I don’t know any other witches!”

“And you still don’t! I hardly qualify as a witch!”

“But you can do it! I have a really good feeling about you!”

“Calcifer…”

“If you do it I’ll…I’ll protect you from the Witch of the Wastes! I won’t let any harm come to you.”

“What?,” Sophie said. “The Witch of the Wastes? Are you trying to scare me so that I’ll do what you say? That’s despicable.”

“You mean you don’t know? You really need to start studying your witchcraft. Can’t you feel her? She’s in your town, and there is only one reason she’d be there: Howl, and since she thinks you’re linked to Howl…”

“But I’m not linked to him. Why would she think that? And I don’t feel anything.”

“She doesn’t care about details, Sophie. All she knows is that you’re a witch who’s been visited by Howl at least three times, and there was even an eyewitness to prove it, though heaven knows what happened to that poor witch. Probably just dried bones and dust by now,” Calcifer said.

“What other witch?” Sophie asked queasily, though she thought she knew what Calcifer was getting at.

“Absinthe Cromms. She’s another one that’s been chasing Howl all over Ingary, but she’s one of the good ones…you do know why Howl came to your shop that day, don't you?”

Sophie didn’t really want to know why. “Why?”

Calcifer turned a wispy secretive blue. “He’d never admit it but Cromms was hot on his tail. He was desperate. Then he sensed your shop and all the magic welled up inside. He used it to shield himself. He basically made himself a magical turtle shell to hide in. The man’s a textbook coward. But when you made that beacon spell – very funny, by the way, you caught Howl in the middle of a bath – you obliterated the shell and that’s how Cromms found him. Everyone knows he was in that shop with you. Everyone.”

There was a heavy pause.

“No!” Sophie shook her head and covered her ears. “The Witch of the Wastes had two weeks to come after me, so she probably isn’t coming at all. I’m not going to get myself scared so that I can jump into a stupid contract with you! I may be the eldest, but I’m not some stupid fairy tale maiden.”

“But-”

“I said no! Besides, why didn’t the Wizard tell me so? He would have warned me, wouldn’t he?”

The silence answered all.

“Please, Calcifer. I just want to resume my life as usual. No interruptions or bargains or adventures,” Sophie said. “Please, believe me. I’m not the person you want.”

Calcifer sighed as best as a little fire demon could. “Are you at least going to try and practice your magic when you get home?”

Sophie wrapped her arms around herself. She shrugged. She didn’t want to think about it. “I’m sorry you’re trapped here, Calcifer. I really am. I know the feeling.”

Calcifer burned low, and Sophie closed her eyes. They stayed like that until the moving castle reached the edge of the Wastes behind Market Chipping.

~

Sophie, while resolving not to listen to Calcifer, still took caution when she tiptoed around her shop. It was late at night and the backstreets where her shop was were empty. The stars were coldly bright above her in a cloudless sky.

She winced, suddenly remembering Lettie and hoping she hadn’t decided to make a spontaneous visit. She also hoped that no one in town had been in desperate need for hat that day. What was she thinking just running off to the Wastes like that? She really was losing her mind.

Upon leaving Howl’s castle, she had made the quick decision to leave all the magic books behind. She wasn’t going to drag any loose, magical ends into her life. She was Sophie Hatter the Hatter and that was all she would ever be and she was grateful. 

When she walked into the shop, it seemed smaller than it ever had. The ceiling felt like it was a few inches from her head. She locked the door and dropped her shawl and hat on the counter. She lit a lamp and started setting up the shop for the next morning.

The door chimed.

“This must be the tackiest hat shop I’ve ever been in.”

A woman was standing in the hat shop. She was beautiful. Her hair was a dark cloud around her amber skin. She was tall and buxom, probably taller than Wizard Howl. Her eyes were a deadly, lightless black that pinned Sophie to the floor. 

“But you, by far, are the tackiest thing here.”

Dread curled in Sophie’s belly like a wild serpent. “We’re closed,” she managed.

“We? But you’re all alone here,” the woman said. She walked along the perimeter of the store, skimming the hats with her fingers. “How interesting. And I thought I knew all the nasty little witches in this nasty little town.”

“I’m not a witch,” Sophie said automatically. 

“Coward,” the woman, who Sophie knew somehow to be the Witch of the Wastes said amicably. “And I suppose you’re going to say that you’ve never met Howl Pendragon either.”

“I can’t be expected to remember everyone who buys a hat from me,” Sophie said.

The Witch of the Wastes stood in front of the round mirror with a yellow beret. “How is Howl, anyways? Still trying to find a heart to replace his own? You still look rather intact. He must not be finished with you yet.” The hat looked fetching on her.

“What do you want with me?” Sophie asked.

“Where is he?” The Witch of the Wastes asked simply enough, as though she were asking for a hat with a feather, or a measurement.

“I don’t know,” Sophie answered, partly because it was true. She wasn’t sure how useful ‘circling the wastes’ would be. Partly because, if Howl had been alone, maybe she would’ve told the Witch of the Wastes everything. But, at that moment, all she could think of was that young boy who reminded her so much of Martha. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Why don’t we speed up the inevitable then and save everyone a lot of time? I hope Howl likes his hearts deep fried.”

Something fast and heavy shot into Sophie’s chest, sending her crashing into the glass counter. It fractured behind her and knocked the wind out of her. 

The Witch of the Wastes stood in the center of the shop with a mild look of surprise and then left. She didn’t pay for the beret.

Sophie felt fine. Apart from being a little winded, she was just frightened and a little bit confused. 

She had just been cursed, right? But she didn’t feel any different. Had the Witch really deep fried her heart? Perhaps it would take a few more minutes before she went into shock and started hemorrhaging. She pressed a hand to her chest, and it was still beating.

And her height was normal too, for that matter, and her dress and shoes. Did anything even really happen to her? Maybe she was immune to Wastes magic, or she unknowingly protected herself with a spell. 

She passed by the mirror on the way to lock the door, and then had to go back. The Witch had tilted it off its axis. Sophie went closer to the mirror, tilted it again, looked closer, shifted it, ripped it completely from the table, shook it then threw it down.

She was invisible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment!


	5. In which a deal is made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deals, magic, and breakfast are made.

For the second time in one week, Sophie found herself in the Wastes, but this time she had a purpose. She was going to find Howl’s Castle if it was the last thing she did. She tried to summon it with her mind while periodically yelling out for it. She was invisible, as in unseen, as in a floating dress and boots.

Why she was going to Wizard Howl instead of Madame Sulliman was beyond her, but it was happening in the same rapid fire pace that the whole morning had gone through.

She heard the thumping and ran toward it, not bothering to think about what else it could belong to. She hoped Howl was there, he’d have a lot of work to do concerning her bleeding knee, sprained wrist and bruised forehead. Among other things.

“Calcifer!” Sophie screamed.

Sure enough the castle appeared out of the mist, and Sophie ran around it, searching for an entrance. She saw a little brown door planted haphazardly in its twisting metalwork and banged on it with both fists.

“It’s Sophie, Calcifer. Let me in!” 

The door fell open and Sophie rushed to the fireplace. “Where is he? You were right! The Witch of the Waste came in and cursed me and I don’t know what to do! Please tell me Wizard Howl can fix this.”

Calcifer stared at her for a moment as if he couldn’t quite remember who she was. “Yeesh,” he said finally. “That’s some curse.”

“What?”

“It’ll take quite a lot to break it. It’s very complicated, like ink in water. Howl can’t fix it by himself.”

“WHAT.”

“You’re in hot water, Sophie. I’m sorry. I told you this would happen.”

“I’ve had enough I told you sos. Where is Howl?”

“Not in right now, but I don’t think he’d tell you anything different, or anything at all really. He’s a bit distracted this week.”

“What am I going to do?” she sunk to the ground and contemplated lying there for the rest of her miserable, unseen life.

Calcifer crackled in his grate as he dipped into a log. “Well, there is one thing.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything!”

“Howl can’t do this spell alone, but I can help him. Unfortunately I’m a little stretched thin at the moment. If you can break the thing I’m under with Howl, then I’ll break yours in a heartbeat,” Calcifer said.

“You can’t be serious,” Sophie said. “How am I supposed to break your thing? I don’t know the first thing about curses or spells or magic. I’m in serious trouble!”

“You’ll learn. I’ll teach you and you can study the curse. It’s what Howl does with Markl all the time.”

“Teach me? Calcifer-”

“You’ll live here! I mean, you can’t really think about going back home, right? How will you work in your stationary shop?”

“It’s a hat shop!”

“And if the Witch finds out you’re still in business, then she’ll surely come back to finish the job. And if it’s not her, then it’ll be the countless other witches after Howl’s heart.”

“You want me to live here?”

“What other choice do you have? You could wait for the spell to wear off, but the Witch of the Wastes has never been merciful.”

Sophie stared up at the ceiling. She had left a note saying she had an emergency and would be back soon. She had thought this curse breaking thing would be easy, a day at most. She was really paying for her whole adventure scheme, wasn’t she? The punishment was never going to end.

“It’s a deal.”

“Yes! Let’s shake on it, to make it real,” Calcifer said. He had grown. His head was nearly touching the ceiling.

“Fine.”

He reached out a yellow tendril and it wrapped around Sophie’s raised hand in a searing lash.  
She didn’t react.

“Ok, first, lesson, go grab one of those books by the couch and…Sophie?”

“All right. I’m going.” But she didn’t move for an hour.

~

The castle door burst open and Howl strode in, shaking the rain off of himself. “It’s horrid out there! Hot water, Calcifer, please. I almost had her, she was practically putty in my hands, but then-…something’s wrong.”

He stood in the middle of the room, his eyes whirling about. Calcifer was oddly subdued.

“Calcifer, what’s happened?”

“I’ve decided to take on an apprentice,” he said primly.

“An apprentice?” Howl snorted, walking slowly around the room. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You get to have Markl. Why can’t I have my own apprentice?”

“Where in the world would you get an apprentice? And how-ACK.” Howl stumbled over something on the ground and fell to his knees. Slowly, a blue dress, black stockings and brown boots formed like apparitions. 

“What the-”

“Howl, I would like you to meet my apprentice,” Calcifer said proudly.

“Miss Hatter?” Howl said slowly. “What in damnation happened to you? That is you, isn’t it?”

“The Witch of the Wastes happened to me,” Sophie said mournfully. She hadn’t been asleep. She had simply been staring at the ceiling, slipping in and out of shock. “And you…you happened to me.”

“The Witch of…oh. She cursed you?”

“Because she thought I knew something about you.”

“I see. Hmm. Well that’s a shame.” His voice was devoid of any emotion stronger than mild pity. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you, Miss Hatter. That is some spell.”

“We know that,” Calcifer said from his grate. “She’s going to break it herself, and I’m going to teach her how.”

It was quite the lie.

“If neither of us can even comprehend the spell, how in the world is she going to learn to break it herself? That would take at least twenty years of training!” Howl said.

“Maybe for you,” Calcifer said snidely. “But Sophie is talented. I can tell. It will take her a month, tops.”

Both Sophie and Howl’s jaws dropped, thought only Howl’s expression was apparent. 

“Are you saying that she’s some sort of prodigy?” 

“Let’s not be hasty,” Sophie said. “A- a month, Calcifer? That’s-”

“Have faith in me, Sophie and have faith in yourself. You have something to fight for. You don’t want to be invisible forever, do you?”

That was true. In fact, if she could she would have been curse free within the hour, but Sophie knew that no amount of wishing and hoping would replace hard work.

“And you!” Howl said, turning on her, though his eyes were a bit unfocused because he couldn’t see her. “Why the hell are you here? Is one of your hobbies breaking and entering? You can’t just invite yourself in here whenever you please. Just because I pitied you that one time, doesn’t mean my patience is eternal.”

Sophie gasped and was actually glad for her invisibility. At least no one could see her cheeks turning red from embarrassment and anger. 

“I don’t have to answer to you!” Sophie said. “I’m Calcifer’s guest and seeing as he does most of the work around here, if he says I can stay, then I think I can stay!”

Sophie had been cursed six ways to hell. What did she have to be afraid of? Certainly not some no account, whiny wizard who couldn’t even uncurse her. So what if he ate girl hearts? Sophie no longer even had a face!

“That’s right!” Calcifer said. “And I also say she’s my apprentice so that’s that.”

Howl scowled at both of them. “Fine! Have it your way. Have fun living in the kitchen. Calcifer, my bath, now!”

He swept up the stairs. Sophie tucked in her hands and feet away from his path, her heart beating with adrenaline and anger.  
Sophie and Calcifer sat in silence. 

“Easy peasy,” he said. “That went better than expected.”

~

“Master Howl!” Markl screamed from the top of the stairs. “The castle’s haunted! Books are floating around.” Predictably, Howl didn’t answer. 

Sophie dumped her books on the filthy dining room table and coughed through a cloud of dust that rose in the air. She had begun studying late last night, fueled by her anger and fear at being stuck like that forever. She hadn’t slept yet. She wasn’t even sure where she would sleep once the time came.

“Markl, meet my new apprentice, Sophie,” Calcifer said. “She’s learning just like you.”

“Who?” Markl asked. “Where is she?”

“Pleasure to meet you, Markl,” Sophie said, not looking up from her books, knowing it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. She was taking to this invisibility thing quite easily. 

“Who…are you a ghost?” Markl whispered. 

“No, I’m studying,” Sophie said. “I’m also, um, invisible.”

“An invisible woman,” Markl said. “Wow. Were you born like that? How do you know Calcifer? What are you studying?”

“Markl, if you would kindly leave my apprentice alone. You always complain when I try to talk to you when you’re studying. Would you kindly extend the courtesy,” Calcifer said.

“Whatever. I’m gonna make breakfast. Do you want anything, Sophie?”

“Tea would be lovely, if you’re making it.”

“I can’t do anything hot. Only Master Howl is allowed to use the fire. We can have bread and jam and juice, though.”

Markl shot a pointed look at Calcifer who was sticking his flickering nose up in the air. “I was not meant for a stovetop.”

“He uses you, Calcifer? For cooking on top of as an engine? That’s terrible!” Sophie said. “It’s exploitative.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Why can’t you just conjure a cooking fire?” she asked.

“Are you crazy?” Markl asked. “Conjure a fire in the same room as a fire demon? Are you crazy? When I say only Master Howl can use the fire, I mean only Master Howl. He’s the only one with the skills to do fire magic!”

“He was. Sophie, grab that book there,” Calcifer said.

Sophie picked up the book then dropped it. “Oh- no. Absolutely not.”  
“Theory is one thing, but practice is another,” said Calcifer. “You’ll never learn anything if you sit behind dusty books all day. That’s what Howl does, and Markl has been here for years.”

“Hey!” cried Markl.

“Try it, Sophie. I’ve never even touched a book in my life and look at me!”

“You can’t even read,” said Markl.

“The answer is no!” said Sophie. “This room is small enough already; I’m not going to add a fire to it! I’ve never even-“ she struggled to think up a beginners’ spell. “If I’m going to start practicing magic, at least let me start small.”

Calcifer grunted and simmered to a transparent blue. “Small, hm? Ok. First, we’ll start off with The History of Thaumaturgy and the Evolution of Subsistence Farming. It will take about seven months to get through, but we want to make sure you really retain it if you’re going to start small.”

“That’s not what I meant!” she gritted out. She bent close to him. “Might I remind you that I’m not really your apprentice? I’m supposed to be researching how to break yours and the Wizard’s spell!”

“You’ll need to know magic to do that.”

“Calcifer, this is all moving too fast!”

“Small and slow!” he said. “That’s exactly what will break the Witch of the Wastes spell.”

“Fine!” said Sophie. She grabbed the book and found the page with the appropriate signs and sigils.

Markl, who had been watching the fight rapturously, jumped and ran upstairs to watch behind the bannister. Then he ran down and removed four eggs from the pantry, a pan, and the kettle. He put them next to her before disappearing again.

She drew on the hardwood with chalk and pressed her hands to it.

Nothing happened. 

“Force your intent into it,” said Calcifer, who was also ducked behind a log in his grate.

“Shhh.” She closed her eyes and straining, trying to figure out which muscle her ‘intent’ was. “Come on fire, come to life, I want fried eggs for breakfast.”

The ground grew warm. Markl gasped.

“Wake up fire, wake up fire, wake up fire,” she repeated as she strained into the ground. “Wake up wake up wake up wake up.”

Suddenly, something dark purple burst from between Sophie’s fingers. It was long and faceless, yet it roared. Sophie shielded herself behind the table as the thing crawled toward her. The room became black as an eclipse.

“Put it out!” yelled Calcifer. “Put it out!”

Sophie’s dress caught fire. “OUT. OUT OUT OUT GO OUT GO OUT PLEASE GO OUT.”

The thing exploded in a cloud of wet ash that splattered the entire room. 

Sophie collapsed on the ground, gasping. Her dress fizzled out, and the air grew clear though smoke clouds gathered at the ceiling.

Markl stood over her. “Hey…you’re that lady from yesterday. The one with the broken leg.”

“You can see me?!”

“You’re covered in ash.”

“Wow, Sophie,” Calcifer said. “You did more in one minute that Markl did in his first month here.”

“Hey!”

“Oh god, what have I done?” Sophie asked, looking around. The room was utterly filthy. The eggs had exploded in the pan, and were half runny, half burnt. All of the water in the kettle had steamed up, except for a small amount at the bottom. 

“You did a fire spell,” said Markl.  
“You made breakfast!” said Calcifer. “Toss me some of those eggshells!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment! <3


	6. In which rumors are spread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors are flying and someone has to pay. Someone always has to pay.

After Markl and Calcifer ate their meager breakfast, Sophie spent the rest of the morning scrubbing the main room. It was covered from ceiling to corner in ash. Calcifer claimed the air was injurious to his health. Sophie didn’t mind. Cleaning didn’t require spellwork or research.

By the time she was finished, her hands were raw, her skirt was ripped and limp, and she was utterly weak. But the castle was spotless. Even better than it had originally been. She organized the trays of herbs, and the racks of roots. 

She was happy there wasn’t a mirror around.  
“Calcifer, I heard the wizard asking you for hot water yesterday. Could I trouble you for the same? I’m absolutely filthy.”

“No!” shouted Markl. “I mean…no. You don’t look dirty at all. I bet you’re tired. You could sleep in my bed if you like.”

“I promise you that I am filthy, despite what it may seem,” said Sophie. “Thank you for the offer though. The bath is upstairs, right?”

Markl grimaced. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But really. You could just go straight to my room. I’ll change my sheets afterwards.”

“Nonsense. I couldn’t possibly sleep like this.” She left soot colored bootprints across the room and up the stairs.

“I just need-“ Sophie gasped at the disgusting state that the bathroom was in. A billow of fragrant steam suffocated her. There were bottles, jars, and tubs everywhere, on shelves, on the floor, on the lip of the grimy bathtub. Speckles of color splattered the walls and leaked from the ceiling.

“I told you. Master Howl refuses to clean and he hates it when I touch his spells,” Markl said, frowning at the ground. 

“Spells?” Sophie yelled as she ran down the stairs. “Why in god’s name would anyone perform spells in the bathroom?”

“Well, plain looking men must do what they can to survive in this world. Where are you going?” Calcifer asked. Sophie was spinning the door dial to blue.

“I really can’t be expected to use that bathroom, can I?” she said. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait!” Calcifer said. “You can’t go out like that. You’re a floating dress!”

“Oh. Oh.” Sophie looked down at herself. “Um. Let’s see.” She pulled a long cloak off of the coatrack and pulled it over entire body. “Can you tell?”

Calcifer took one look at her and burst out laughing. Sophie took it as a good sign and left.

~

Being on the streets of Port Haven was very strange. Sophie didn’t realize how different seaside towns were from inland towns. The atmosphere was different, the people were different, the stores, the smells. People, for the most part, ignored her, but kept out of her way at the same time.

She followed signs to a bathhouse that advertised healing saltwater rinses and barnacle soaps.

“One private bath, please,” Sophie said to the woman at the counter. She slipped a few coins that she had hidden in her pocket. The woman wordlessly handed her a key and pointed down a hall in the left without touching the money. Sophie spent an hour in the bath, alternately crying and alternately scrubbing herself down to the blood. It seemed she was not quite through with her breakdown yet.

She found if she broke her skin, the blood welled up from thin air to mix with the soapy water and disappear. She wasn’t sure where she ended and the rest of the room began. If she made the water really hot, the steam would make everything invisible, so she did that until someone banged on the door and told her she had to leave. She wrapped herself in the cloak and quickly left.

Out of the corner of her eye, as she was walking back to the castle, she noticed a tall blond peacock strutting down the boulevard, with a handsome dark-skinned woman on his elbow.

Howl looked downright charming, laughing with blindingly white teeth and flashy clothes and jewelry. The woman was gazing up at him adoringly.

Sophie ducked behind a shop sign and watched him go. Interesting. A girlfriend? A fiancée? They looked rather close…or…  
Sophie gulped. How could she have forgotten? This was Horrible Howl she was watching. That woman was most definitely going to have her heart eaten. He was probably leading her to a secluded alley so that he could rip open her bodice, and snatch out her heart.  
But suddenly they were gone. Before she could even think about removing her cloak or calling out the duo was gone.

Sophie stared at the street for a few seconds longer. They were nowhere to be seen. She sighed and walked back to the castle. 

~

Sophie had just finished a long, deep nap in Markl’s bed when Howl came bouncing in.  
“Good afternoon, everyone! I brought gifts!” He dumped a bouquet on the table and then went to warm his hands over Calcifer. “The castle’s looking rather spotless today. What happened, _Sophie_?”

“Why are you asking me?” she squeaked wondering if he could sense any residual magic.

“Oh, you didn’t scrub the castle down today? Were you too busy _following me around Port Haven_?” Howl asked, not losing an ounce of cheer.  
“I wasn’t following you!” Sophie said.

“Oh really? So that wasn’t you in my disguise cloak, peeking behind Hanson’s Shoe Shine Sign? That was just some random, nosy parker horse?”

“Horse? What-”

“I have four disguise cloaks, one of which is a brown speckled mare, and who did I see spying on me on Pottover Lane? A brown speckled mare. Now really Sophie, you’ve got a lying problem, haven’t you?”

“No! I wasn’t following you, I just saw you walking down the street with that poor woman. Where is she now? Torn open in an alley somewhere, missing her heart?”

“You must be from Market Chipping,” Markl chirped from the bench. “I told everyone there that Master Howl _ate_ hearts. We were running out of ideas.”

“Markl! Honestly, has everyone in this house forgotten what the word ‘secrecy’ means?” Howl said, flinging his scalloped sleeves into the air. “I didn’t peg you for the morbid type, Sophie.”

“You spread rumors?” Sophie asked. “Why in heaven’s name would you do that? Do you know how terrified everyone in Market Chipping is? They cancel the night market every time your castle starts stomping over the hills.”

Howl made a non-committal noise and leaned against the fireplace. “So what happened today? How did your _first lesson_ go?”

“Sophie tried to make a fire and it exploded and there was smoke everywhere,” Markl said. 

Now it was Sophie’s turn: “Markl!”

“And it was great,” Calcifer said. “She decided she wanted to make a fire, and she went for it. I was right. Sophie does have a natural talent for magic. She even managed to put the fire out herself, without any help. I thought it was very brave. Unlike some people.”

Howl scowled at Calcifer, then at Sophie. “Yes, I’m sure she’ll go to great places with an exploding fire spell. How’s the invisibility going, Miss Hatter?”

“How do you think it’s going, heart eater?” she said, her face going hot. “But I think Calcifer’s right. Within a month this will all be a bad dream.”

Howl narrowed his eyes. “Calcifer. Hot water for my bath, please.”

That night, when everyone was in bed and Sophie was up studying the dusty tomes, Calcifer called to her.

“How is the progress on my curse?”

“Oh, I don’t know Calcifer. I don’t even know how you’re cursed. Can’t you give me a hint or something?”

“I have been giving you hints. You need to pay attention. The sooner you break this thing, the faster your life will be back to normal. There’s a book on the fourth shelf about cursing. Read it.”

Sophie sighed, but got it.

~  
After the first weekend, citizens of Port Haven and Kingsbury reported signs of a spirit haunting Pendragon’s Spells and Magic and Jenkin’s Potions shop, respectively. When they’d look past the door, they’d see floating books and herbs, and a dress in the form of a shapely young woman’s body. 

One day a young Port Haven patron slipped her way into the shop while Markl was retrieving a plant growth spell for someone else. 

“Um, excuse Madame Spirit,” the young woman whispered into the living room.

Sophie startled and swung around, unsure if letting this woman see her was a good thing. People in Market Chipping would be alarmed at the prospect of an invisible woman. And ‘Madame Spirit’? The thought of a ghost would be even worse!

“Spirit?” Sophie repeated.

The girl was plump and cheerless, her curly hair falling over her face.  
“Please…I need your help. Um, I- I brought you this.” The girl thrust a covered dish forward, nearly clocking Sophie in the chest. The girl stood like that, her eyes down, until Sophie lifted the sheet. It was a long and crispy fried trout. It smelled delicious and had red speckles of spice glistening on the surface.

“A fish?” Sophie said dumbly.

“Is it alright? Is it enough?” The girl asked, her shoulders hitching up to her ears. “I know Paula brought you a braised goose, but I- I couldn’t- I promise I’ll get you a goose. I’ll get you a swan! I work at the-“

“Paula,” Sophie said. It seems she was only capable of repeating words that were said to her.

“Yes,” the girl said. “Paula. She visited you last week. You told her fortune. You said she would be married by her 21st birthday to a Duke. Then you cast a spell to ensure that her face would never have a blemish again.”

Sophie stared at the girl as she rambled on. She had never met a Paula nor had she spoken to anyone but Markl, Calcifer, and Howl in days. The girl spoke, quite unaware that Sophie wasn’t paying attention.

“So if would just please tell me what to do,” the girl finished. “Could Sariah possibly love me? Could anyone? Please, Madame Spirit. I’m begging you.”

To Sophie’s horror, tears began to tumble down the girl’s round cheeks. She shook and the fish wobbled precariously in her fisted hands. Before Sophie could formulate an answer to that incredibly deep question, Markle came to the rescue.

He was wearing the old man disguise, and he came running from the pantry.  
“Ah! Ah, yes!” He panted with his fake old man voice. “I mean no! The Spirit of Despairing Souls doesn’t take requests! No, no out you go.”  
He herded the crying girl to the door.

“But, I just need an answer!” she said. “I don’t need anything but guidance! Please!”

“Sorry my dear, the Spirit only…performs curses now. Death curses. Beware! Don’t come back! Sorry! Tell your friends!”

He pushed her out and slammed the door with a huge exhale.

He didn’t say anything, as if hoping that Sophie would eventually get bored and wander away.

“Markl,” Sophie finally said. “What in the world was that?”

He winced and pulled back the hood of his disguise. “Sorry. Rumor gone wrong. I didn’t suspect that anyone would actually try to meet you.”

“You spread a rumor about me? Why ever for?”

He shrugged and shifted his eyes around the room. “It’s so that people don’t get too curious about the castle or Master Howl. You said it yourself. People hear about a heart-eating wizard and they stay away. I want to add extra security to protect the shops. People were talking about an invisible ghost walking around the shops, so I decided to…spice the story up a little bit. I guess it wasn’t scary enough.”

“What did you say about me?” asked Sophie.

“That you are a ghost who jumped into the ocean after your lover married another woman. Now you haunt the potion shop, a jealous ghost who can see whether love is true or false…”

“What? But…the fish! And Paula! And swans! This doesn’t make any sense Markl!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me.”

Sophie groaned in exasperation. “That girl just now – none of what she said matched up with your rumor. She had a fish. She said someone came here with a goose, but-“

“Sounds like a rumor to me,” chimed Calcifer who had been silently watching. “The more a rumor spreads, the more it transforms until it becomes totally unrecognizable. Humans are just natural exaggerators. But there will always be a kernel of truth at the center. Take that rumor about Howl, for example. You said he eats hearts? What do you think the truth in that could-”

“Hold on, let me gather my thoughts,” Sophie interrupted. She brought a hand to her temple and began to rub away the impending headache. “That poor girl walked into a haunted shop, because she thought I could help her find her true love?”

“If we could concentrate on rumors-”

“Yes,” replied Markl.

Sophie groaned again, louder, and threw her hands in the air. Then she marched past Markl and went outside.

The sun was setting in Port Haven. People bustled down the cobbled streets. Some occasionally glanced at her, but quickly looked away.

“Hello?” she called. “Um…it’s me! The ghost of…drowned…lovers. Girl? Are you gone?”

“What?”

Sophie jumped. The girl was sitting against the shop wall, her face splotchy and dour. “Are you going to put a curse on me?”

“No, I won’t curse you,” said Sophie. She shifted uncomfortably in the sunlight. Had it always been so bright? “I just…wanted to see if you were alright.”

That was a stupid sentiment given that the girl was sobbing on the ground outside a wizard’s shop. 

“I’m never going to be alright again,” she said. 

“Why?”

“She’s leaving. My true love is leaving and I don’t know what to do.”

“Why can’t you go with her?” asked Sophie.

“Like she’d take me with her. She’s sailing to Pillarca in a week. What would someone like _me_ do in Pillarca? I’m useless and boring, and I can’t do anything right.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” Sophie said. “That’s awful!”

“Because its true!” the girl replied.

“If it’s true, then why did you come to me?” 

The girl hesitated and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “I have to make sure. If I knew- if I truly knew Sariah loved me back, then I’d give up everything. I’d quit my job, sell everything and beg her to take me with her. But I have to be sure. I can’t humiliate myself- not in front of her…so, will you tell me? Please, I’ll give you anything. I’ll _do_ anything.”

Sophie winced and tried to swallow down the knot of guilt and sympathy. Looking at the girl hurt.

“I…can’t.”

The girl sunk her head into her hands. “Can’t you see how desperate I am? What did Paula give you that I don’t have? What am I missing?”

“Paula never-”

“What am I _always_ missing? I’ve never been good enough for anyone or anything. Ever! Nothing I have is ever enough! I just want to be enough. For her. _Please_ help me. Please! If you can just help me this one time. I just want you to tell me. If I’m not good enough for her, then I’ll stop. Forever. I won’t try- I won’t try ever again. Just… _please_.” 

“I…“ Sophie looked away and tightened her hand into a fist. Then she sighed in resignation. “Don’t move.”

She retreated into the shop. 

She found a silk sachet and began to fill it with things: sugar cubes, chamomile, pink quartz, dragonfly wings, ginger peel, cardinal feathers.

“What’s this?” asked Calcifer. “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?”

Sophie did not answer.

When the sachet couldn’t take anymore, she twisted it shut and whispered to it. She whispered everything she wished she could say to the girl.

She opened the door and the girl was standing on the other side, holding the covered dish. Her expression was guarded.

“Here.” Sophie thrust the sachet at her. “Put this under your pillow tonight, and make sure you sleep on it the whole night through. When you wake up you’ll know everything you need to know.”

The girl’s face broke open. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” She flung her arms around Sophie and let the dish slide onto a stair step. “I’ll be back with the swan!”

“No,” Sophie said firmly. “Don’t come back. Ever. Just…be happy.”

The girl paused and then she nodded. “Alright. I will. Thank you, Madame Spirit. Thank you.”

Sophie closed the door feeling utterly drained. The fish was heavy in her hands.

“So,” said Calcifer. “Sorceress Sophie just sold her first spell.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she muttered. “Markl! Come look at tonight’s dinner!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments! I truly appreciate them so much. They warm my soul right up. <3


	7. In which muck is rraked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie decides to do some investigating and ends up slinging mud instead.

After the second week, Howl took pity on Sophie and created a small, cozy nest under the stairs with spare quilts and his own two hands. He did this after he found her slumped on the work table, a line of drool appearing out of the ether and onto the table. She spent her afternoons draped across Markl’s bed, and the nights and mornings studying furiously. 

As she slept, he studied her. Her spell was too complicated. Whatever she said, she definitely wasn’t making any headway. He couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible for what happened. He glanced at the book she was reading. 

_Demons and Like Entities._

Sophie groaned and shifted. “Why are you standing behind me?” 

“The table isn’t waterproof,” Howl said. “I’d prefer it if you took your drool to your own corner under the stairs.”

There was a pause and then footsteps across the room. “Oh, thank you. It’s the most amazing bed I’ve ever seen.” She slipped off her boots, and then collapsed on the layer of cushions. He waited until her breathing deepened again.

“Calcifer,” Howl said. “What in the world have you been doing to her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Calcifer said smugly. “Looking for tips on teaching Markl?”

Howl folded his arms. “Tell me the truth. What has she been doing? There’s absolutely no change in her spell, and I think it may be getting worse. It’s hard for me to hear her voice on some days. You’re obviously not helping-”

Sophie let out a loud snore.

“Howl, we’ve got everything under control. We make a great student teacher team, and I promise you she’s learning a lot. How have your machinations been going?”

“Calcifer, don’t start-”

“You know, it’s really hopeless and you should stop trying with all these women. Why don’t you just stay home and resign yourself. Or better yet, try to break the curse on your own. I’m getting really tired of sitting in this grate.”

“Why did you suddenly bring this up?” Howl asked. 

“No reason. I’m just concerned, that’s all. I’m allowed to _feel_ at least that, aren’t I? Despite your own deficiencies. You really are heartless.”

“You’ve been infuriating lately, and I think it has something to do with Miss Hatter.” He walked to the door and switched it to the black portal. “Don’t wait up.”

“Well, you’re infuriating all the time, but you don’t see me blaming your random-”

The door slammed on his words. “Sophie! Did you get that?”

“Calcifer!” she said, shooting up. “My curse is getting worse?”

“Don’t worry about that, Sophie, he was exaggerating.”

“He wasn’t! He said he couldn’t hear me. What does that mean? Am I…am I disappearing? Oh god, Calcifer. We’ve got to be quicker. I’ve got to figure this out before I evaporate completely!” She ran to the table and got a pencil and paper.

Then she went back to her nest and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before returning. They subtly smelled like Howl’s perfumes and lotions. “Ok, what exactly should I have been paying attention to?”

“Everything! I was giving so many hints. Tell me what you remember,” Calcifer said.

“You barely said anything! All you mentioned was that Howl dates too many women, and since Markl said he doesn’t eat hearts, I’m led to believe that his only crime is being a womanizer.”

“Close, Sophie! You’re so close,” Calcifer said. “What else?”

Sophie was silent for a moment. “Have you been noticing anything odd about me? Sometimes when I look down, I think I can’t see my dress or my stockings. It’s like they’re disappearing with me.”

“Focus, Sophie! Don’t get distracted.”

“Calcifer, please.”

“…Yes, but it’s been so gradual I barely even notice. You’ll be fine, we’re right on schedule. Soon I’ll be free and your spell will be gone! Now what else?”

Sophie took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Ok. He’s trying to break the curse, but you suggested he stay home and try to break it himself. And…wait…does he need a woman to break his curse?”

“You’re almost there, Sophie, keep thinking. I knew you were smart. Do you remember I called him something? I said he was…”

“Stupid?”

“No, not today.”

“I can’t remember, Calcifer.”

“Ok, let’s move on then. Do you what you can with what you have. What might a date be able to do?”

“Well, for the past few weeks he’s been spending hours in the shower with a variety of different smells and new clothes and he has been coming back with flowers and chocolates and balloons. They’ve been able to make him spend all of his money. Can’t you give me a hint?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a hint. That’s your next question to solve, but it’s good. I’m very proud of you. Keep working, you might even be able to break it by the morning!”

Sophie looked back at her nest regretfully. Then she sighed and began to work again. 

~

“Sophie, Markl, get dressed. We’re going on an excursion,” Howl said, early one morning. 

“Where are we going, Master Howl?” Markl said.

“On an _excursion_ , Markl. To the East Meadows,” he said.

It was raining there. Markl ran back to his room to get his boots.

“Why do you need me?” Sophie asked. She was at the work table fixing up a ‘No Tears’ herb packet, meant to instill bravery in the face of rejection. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Sophie. It might be because a certain ‘Spirit’ has been using up all my ingredients for fake love spells,” Howl said.

“They’re not fake! They’ve helped loads of people. I’ve gotten many testimonials,” Sophie said. 

There weren’t any more strange or intense young girls bursting into the castle and demanding magical guidance, but occasionally someone would knock on the door and quietly ask if The Spirit of Despairing Souls could help protect their heart.  
And well…how could Sophie refuse?”

“Well this expensive hobby of yours needs furnishing. Let’s go, Sophie. And when we’re out there maybe you’ll actually learn a thing or two,” Howl said. He adjusted navy lined sleeves. He looked immaculate, as always, and ever so slightly over-dressed.

“You’re going like that?” Sophie asked, getting a cloak from the closet. “Your suit will be ruined.”

He hummed and retrieved a basket from the kitchen.

“I can’t imagine being so done up all the time,” Sophie said. 

“I take pride in my appearance. I can’t imagine not seeing my reflection every day,” Howl said, but he said it with sympathy. When she looked at him, she saw that he was sincere. He shuddered. “But you seem to be taking to it rather well.”

“Well, this spell isn’t so different from my regular life,” Sophie said.

“I said not being able to see myself. I didn’t say anything about other people not seeing me,” Howl said.

Sophie didn’t have to look away, or cover her cheeks, or hide her frown. She simply had to stay still and silent.

Markl bounded down the stairs in a cloak, with two small woven baskets under his arms. “I’m ready! Sophie, the Wastes get really muddy. I don’t think we have any extra galoshes…”

Sophie grabbed chalk from the box on the shelf. “I’m going to try to do a spell. Just a small one, so don’t worry no one will get hurt. It will be a sealant to waterproof my boots.”

Howl groaned loudly. “All the spells in the world at your fingertips, and you use it to protect your _shoes_ from _mud_? Blasphemy.”

“How’s that any different from the glamour spells you use for every item of your wardrobe?” said Calcifer.

Howl graciously ignored the comment and waited until Sophie and Markl met him at the door. He spun the dial to yellow and together they disappeared into the cold, rainy wastes.

~

The rain was falling buckets in the meadows East of The Wastes. That was where the castle had moved to after it had made several revolutions around Market Chipping. The mud was a churning mess that sunk Markl up to his knees. Sophie’s boot sealant spell was successful but did nothing for her stockings or the rest of her clothes.

Howl was clean. The rain fell around him and the mud parted under his shoes.

“We need to split into two groups,” Howl said, his voice carrying even through the heavy downpour. “We need water plants from the bogs, and herbs from the wild bushes. I don’t want to spend anymore time out there than we have to.”

“I’ll go with you, Howl,” Sophie piped without any prompting. “Wherever you’re going.”

Howl and Markl exchanged looks. She shrugged. “You’ve done this before, Markl. This is my first time so I’ll need extra help.”

In truth, she wanted time to study Howl. Before they had left the castle, Calcifer had beckoned her over and told her to use this time to investigate. He wouldn’t suspect her, so he might reveal something important. Howl was usually in and out of the castle within minutes. Sometimes she didn’t see him for days. This might be her only chance.

“Alright,” Howl said warily. “Markl, hurry to the glen. We’ll take the bog.”

“Right,” Markl said, running off.

Sophie and Howl walked through the muck in silence. “Are you going out later today?” Sophie asked. “On a date or anything like that?”

Howl made a vague noise and began rooting around in the soil for tubers.

Sophie stood behind him, carrying a basket. “How’s…is Ermintrude her name? She was very lovely.”

“And how would you know anything about Ermintrude?” Howl asked, walking briskly up a slope. “Have you been spying again? There’s St. John’s Wort by that bush.”

“No.” She kneeled by the bush and went to work. She had to shout over the rainfall. “She stopped by the other day, asking for you. You weren’t home.”

Her voice hitched when she said the last word, wondering when she’d begun calling the castle that. 

Howl didn’t reply.

“But from that bottle of wine you brought that evening, it wouldn’t be too absurd of me to assume that you were on a date with another woman,” Sophie said. She sighed melodramatically. “Poor Ermintrude. She must be heartbroken. Well her and the dozens of other women you’ve left behind. Is this why the Witch of the Waste is after you? It’s a wonder you don’t have an army of witches breaking down your door at every moment. Why must you break so many hearts?”

“Why do you want to know?” Howl asked. He stopped working and was studying her form under the rain.

“I- was just- I just wanted to know,” Sophie said. “It’s not a strange question, is it?”

“You spend so much time studying I find it hard to believe you’ve noticed any of what I’ve been doing – valerian root in the mud pond.”

He pointed across the bog to an especially muddy and bubbling pool. Sophie groaned and shoved up the sleeves of her soaking wet cloak. “You’re hardly subtle,” she called. “You dress like a peacock. You wear _earrings_. You play love songs on your mandolin all evening. Even if I wanted to study, you make it a bit difficult with all your carrying on.”

“How is your studying?” Sophie whirled and fell in the mud, bottom first. Howl was standing right behind her, his arms crossed. The basket was floating right over his shoulder. “I find it so odd that just two weeks ago you were paralyzed by the thought of magic, and now you’re casting spells on your shoes.”

Sophie crawled out of the mud and flung it off of her hands and dress. She was soaked to the core. “Maybe you’re just a bad influence! Did you do that on purpose to scare me? Look at me!”

Howl pointedly scanned her body, and Sophie suddenly realized that her dress was wetly clinging to her body, invisible or not. She bit back a cry and wrapped the cloak around herself. 

“Scare you?” Howl said. “Well, I am Horrible Howl, aren’t I? You should know better than anyone that I’m an evil wizard that eats eyeballs.”

“Hearts. You eat hearts, and now I’m not so certain that is just a made-up rumor. You have those poor women chasing after you trying to get back the parts of them that you stole.”

Howl began to walk away. “You can’t steal a heart, Ms. Hatter. You can only give it up willingly and hope the receiver can be trusted to treat it with care. I should know.”

“Yes, you should know! It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for the Witch of the Wastes.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re currently in a position to be pitying anyone.”

Once again Sophie wrapped her arms around her body and the soaking wet clothes clinging to it. “You really are horrible!”

Whatever Howl was about to say was lost when a wave of mud shot from the ground and plastered him like missiles. 

He stood there as if electrocuted, the mud sliding down his face, dripping from his hair. It stained his crisp white shirt. His starched trousers wrinkled and swelled. With his shock whatever magical barrier he erected disappeared and the rain drowned him. The basket fell to the ground, its contents lost in the muck.

“Oh!” Sophie’s hands flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

It only took a second. With a swipe of his hands the mud glided off of him, and he was once again immaculate. The rain was guarded against. The basket was still empty.  
“I see that you can employ magic just fine when it’s for spite.”

“It was an accident. I’m so sorry.”

His mouth was tight. “There will be verbena behind that bush and lichen gathered beneath that rock to the north. Try to be quick, if not for your own sake, then for Markl’s.”

He stomped off into the rain.  
Sophie stayed where she was, sheepishly continuing to pull the herbs out of the ground. 

He was right. She could use magic to be annoying, but not to break her curse or help Calcifer. She’d been so distracted with her new circumstances, she’d almost forgotten she had a magic problem. Stupid.  
She couldn’t even use her mundane powers of investigation. She had been so clumsy with her questioning. But…

Why _did_ he have to break so many hearts all the time? Was that part of the curse? Essence of depression or something? 

She’d have to mention it to Calcifer.

~

When they got back home, Howl dropped the baskets at the door and stormed upstairs. Sophie hung back guiltily.

“What’s the matter with him?” Calcifer asked.

“Probably late for another date,” Markl said, toeing off his muddy galoshes. 

“Has he always gone on dates?” Sophie asked

“Yep.”

“Why?” she asked. “It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to find a fiancée or anything like that.”

Markl’s mouth twisted in a half smirk half grimace. “It’s like…the moment the girl falls in love with him, that’s when he loses interest. It’s terrible. Before we left Roseburg there were crying girls banging on our door every day. Sometimes they brought their aunts, and that was the worse, because they have these long hat pins, and they wouldn’t care, they’d just stick you. That’s why I spread the rumors. They wouldn’t dare stick a wizard who eats hearts.”

“I hate aunts,” Calcifer said. “So loud and pushy.”

“But why?” Sophie asked. “That sounds terrible! Why cause so much chaos again and again?”

Markl shrugged. “I guess he’s a romantic?”

“He’s heartless is what he is,” Calcifer said.

~

Later that evening, Markl went out to buy groceries. He and Sophie were both still frozen to the core, and he had the sweet idea of making hot chocolate. 

Howl still had not left his room.

He returned with several bags.  
“Sophie, I have a surprise for you!”

Sophie opened one of the bags and pulled up a bright pink cloth, before dropping it.  
“Oh, Markl. You shouldn’t have. Really.”

“New clothes!” he said. He dumped out a bag of violently colorful fabric. “Since you only have that blue dress!”

“How kind of you, Markl.” Sophie was grateful for her invisibility. She couldn’t fix her expression into joyous and grateful. The clothes were, in a word, ugly. She held up an orange and yellow ribboned monstrosity. Even someone like her wouldn’t be caught wearing them.

“I know they’re brighter than what you might be used to, but just because you’re invisible doesn’t mean you have to wear clothes that are forgettable,” Markl said. He pulled out fleece pinafore the color of peppermint candy. “Do you like it?”

“It is certainly bright,” Sophie said. “And showy. I think it will take some getting used to.”

“Nothing will clash on you! Every piece of clothing is in your season. Please say you’ll wear them, Sophie,” he said. “Maybe if you wear something exciting…”

He scratched his cheek.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Is Master Howl here?”

“He hasn’t left his room,” Calcifer said. “It’s very odd.”

“Taking a nap, maybe?” Sophie asked

“Howl doesn’t take naps,” Calcifer said. “I’m certain he had a date today.”

Sophie tried to push down her guilt. He wasn’t still upset about that morning, was he? It had only been a bit of mud!

“Maybe he’s taking time for himself,” she said. “Rather than go on a date.”

Before the words even left her mouth, Calcifer burst out laughing. Markl hid his face in his hands but couldn’t hide his heaving shoulders.

“Time for himself? The day that man decides to stay inside instead of go on a date is the day I’ll eat my hat,” said Calcifer.

“You don’t own a hat,” said Markl. “Meditation isn’t really Master Howl’s thing.”

“The day you catch him lying around in pajamas is the day you better call the priest for last rites. He’s probably on his death bed.”

“Yeah, it’s as likely as him getting _married_ ,” said Markl.

Calcifer roared. “If Howl ever gets married, you buy me a hat and I’ll eat it! The man doesn’t even have a heart.” 

Sophie stared at them, slightly appalled. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”

“He’s probably just mad about some girl,” Markl said. “Try on the clothes, Sophie. We need to see how they fit.”

“Where’d you get the money for all of this anyways?” 

“They weren’t so expensive. Besides, your Spirit of Love thing does bring in a lot of revenue. And you cook. We at least owe you some nice clothes.”

Sophie grinned, a little sad now that he couldn’t see it. “In that case, thank you Markl. I don’t think I’ve ever been appreciated before.”

They spent the rest of the evening making measurements on Sophie’s clothes and drinking chocolate. 

At one point Markl went upstairs with a mug. Howl did not answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments. Each one makes me so happy and gives me energy. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. <3  
> Next chapter: Slime!

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see if I can keep this up. Also I'm unsure about this html formatting so if you see an errant _tag or something that looks like it should be emphasized...i hate you_
> 
> _< 3 i hope you enjoy! <3_


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